


Harry Potter and The Ambition of Misunderstanding

by orphan_account



Series: Harry Potter and the... [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Abusive Dursley Family, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Child Abuse, Magic, Mentor Severus Snape, Political Alliances, Rivalry, Severitus, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Pride, Slytherin buddy system, but au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-11
Updated: 2018-03-28
Packaged: 2019-03-29 20:29:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13934781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Harry Potter knows that he's unwanted by the adults in his life. However his life is changed forever when a letter is delivered to him before his 11th birthday. Suddenly he'd thrust into a world of magic and his life is opened to a new realm of possibilities. When his sorting doesn't go the way the rest of the world thought it would, he's once again shunned by his classmates. Now all he can depend on is himself and MAYBE his housemates from time to time.





	1. The Letter from No One

**Author's Note:**

> I obviously don't own Harry Potter.

Harry's eyes snapped open and he let out a gasp as he sat up in the small mattress he slept on. He didn't have long to think about his dream when he heard his aunt banging on the door to the cupboard under the stairs, where he slept. He rubbed his forehead and sighed.

"Up!" The shrill voice of his aunt demanded. "Up! Get up now!" She was still banging on his door. She moved away from the door and Harry heard the frying pan being put on the stove. He rolled on his back and looked up at the underside of the stairs. He was trying to remember the dream he'd been having. There were flashes of green everywhere, and a woman was speaking to him sweetly. He had the funny feeling that he'd had that same dream before.

His aunt was back outside the door. "Are you up yet?" she demanded.

"Nearly," said Harry.

"Well, get a move on, I want you to look after the bacon. And don't you dare let it burn, I want everything perfect on Duddy's birthday."

Harry groaned threw his arm over his face and pulled the blanket over his face.

"What did you say?" his aunt snapped through the door.

"Nothing, nothing..." Harry muttered.

Dudley's birthday - how could he have forgotten? Harry got slowly out of bed and started looking for socks. He found a pair in the little box he kept all his clothes, after pulling a spider off one of them, put them on. The spiders were nothing new to Harry, not like when he was really small. They didn't frighten them anymore. He opened the cupboard door and stepped out. He walked down the hall to the kitchen. Petunia had thrown open the window and Harry glared at the sun. It seemed to mock him with its cheerfulness.

The Duddly's gifts covered the table. Bright wrapping paper promised the spoiled boy another happy birthday. Harry had never experienced that. He'd never gotten a gift from his family before. He didn't mind too much, he could live without, but it was still annoying to see how Dudley got everything his heart could ever wish for, but never was grateful for any of it.

Harry pushed back his messy black hair out of his green eyes. He blinked quickly as he looked down at the pan and flipped over the bacon. His glasses were slipped down his face since the last time that Dudley had broken them after the game of Harry Hunting. He pushed them up with his pointer finger. Harry didn't look it, but he was very fast on his feet, so it was surprise that he'd been caught by his cousin who was very fat and hated exercise. Perhaps it had something to do with living in a dark cupboard, but Harry had always been small and skinny for his age. He looked even smaller and skinnier than he really was because all he had to wear were old clothes of Dudley's, and Dudley was about four times bigger than he was. The only thing Harry thought was interesting about himself was the scar on his forehead. He'd asked his aunt how he'd gotten it, but she said that he'd gotten it in the accident that had killed his parents. Then she snapped at him not to ask questions. Don't ask questions. That was the only constant of the Dursley house.

Vernon walked into the kitchen and snapped at him to brush his hair. But they both knew that no matter how much Harry brushed his hair, it wouldn't lay flat. Harry didn't mind that much. He felt like it gave him a more unique look.

Harry had finished cooking breakfast by the time Dudley wandered down the stairs. Harry placed the food on the only exposed parts of the table. He then rushed to pour his uncle his morning cup of coffee. Dudley stood at the kitchen enterance and counted his presents. "Thirty-six?" He asked. "That's two less then last you!"

"No honey, you didn't see auntie Marge's gift. It's right here under the gift from mummy and daddy." Petunia smiled, trying to calm the tantrum that they could all feel building. "And when we go out today we'll get you two more presents. Doesn't that sound good, Duddy?"

Dudley stood and thought it over for a few seconds. "Yeah, then I'll have...thirty...thirty..."

"Thirty-nine." Harry said, taking a quick bite of his bacon. Dudley looked at him with a glare. Harry rolled his eyes and put his head down. He didn't want to turn the anger of his cousin on himself. He'd only been trying to help...more or less. He jumped when Vernon slammed his hand down on the table and stood, causing the table to shake dangerously. Harry could feel a sweat beginning to form on his temple. His shoulders tensed.

"Now see here, you little-" He began. They were interupted by the ringing of the phone. Petunia went quickly to answer it, shooting Vernon a look to keep quiet while she was on the phone. Vernon lowered his voice. "Don't you try and act all smart." He poked Harry's chest with a thick finger. "If you disrespect Dudley again, I'll smack you about the head, you understand me?" He hissed dangerously.

"Yes, uncle Vernon." Harry said quietly.

Harry watched as Dudley ripped open his gifts, throwing the paper on the ground. He scrunched his face up at some of the gifts, pushing them aside. He unwrapped a racing bike, and a camera. He was just unwrapping a wrist watch when Petunia stormed into the kitchen angrily.

"Bad news, Vernon," she said. "Mrs. Figg's broken her leg. She can't take him." She jerked her head in Harry's direction. "What do we do now?" She asked, putting her hands on her hips. Dudley was already starting to pitch a fit, but his mother came to his aid.

"We can just keep him here." Vernon said. "We can lock the cupboard."

Harry felt his heart sink. He thought maybe he'd be allowed to go with his cousin to the fun places his parents always took him and a friend. But it seemed like he'd just be spending the day in his cupboard. Vernon grabbed him by the arm and hauled him towards it, slamming the door behind him, locking it. He left the vent open so Harry could breath in the summer heat. Small mercies.

Eventually the Dursleys left and Harry sat miserably with his chin resting on his hand. He waited until he was sure that the Dursley's had left before he grabbed a broken coat hanger and slipped it through the vent. He unhooked the lock and pushed open the door. He'd been doing that for a few years. He went into the kitchen and found that all of breakfast was now in the garbagecan. Harry looked in the trash and pulled out four pieces of bacon. He didn't know when he'd get food again. He ate it quickly and sat down on the couch. He didn't want to turn on the T.V. in case someone heard it. If they told the Dursley's he'd get the beating of his life. But he didn't think it would hurt anything if he just sat and relaxed for once.

He let out a cry of surprise when he saw an owl, a  _real_ owl, fly into the house and land on the coffee table. It was holding a letter in its beak. Harry blinked a few times. He squeezed his eyes closed and opened them, but the bird was still there, blinking at him. Harry reached out and gently touched its brown feathers. "So, it's real." The bird laid the letter down and took it. Harry turned it over.

_Mr. H. Potter_   
_The Cupboard under the Stairs_   
_4 Privet Drive_   
_Little Whinging_   
_Surrey_

It was written in a deep emerald ink. "It's for me?" He asked the bird who hooted softly. Harry opened it, and his mouth fell open.

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._   
_Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31. Yours sincerely,_   
_Minerva McGonagall,_   
_Deputy Headmistress_

Harry pulled out the supply list. "Is this a prank?" He asked the bird, who still wasn't giving him an answer. Harry knew his relatives weren't smart enough to train an owl to deliver mail for a prank.

_First-year students will require:_

_Uniform_   _Three Sets of Plain Work Robes (Black)_   _One Plain Pointed Hat (Black) for day wear_   _One Pair of Protective Gloves (dragon hide or similar)_   _One Winter Cloak (Black, silver fastenings)_   _Please note that all student's clothes should carry name-tags at all times._   _Books_   _The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 1 by Miranda Goshawk_   _A History of Magic by Bathilda Bagshot_   _Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling_   _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration by Emeric Switch_   _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi by Phyllida Spore_   _Magical Drafts and Potions by Arsenius Jigger_   _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them by Newt Scamander_   _The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection by Quentin Trimble_   _Other Equipment_   _1 Wand_   _1 Cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)_   _1 set of glass or crystal phials_   _1 telescope_   _1 set of brass scales_   _Students may also bring an Owl, a Cat or a Toad.[1]_   _PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS._

Harry let his fingers run over the parchment. He figured he could always write the mysterious person. He went and found paper from one of his spiral notebooks. He went back into the living room and saw that the owl was still waiting for him, hopping around the table, flapping its wings in irritation. "I'm moving as fast as I can." He chuckled and grabbed the last piece of bacon he'd been eating and gave it to the bird who snapped at it happily.

_Dear Sir or Ma'am.  
_ _I'm sorry, but I've never heard of Hogwarts before. Would you please send me more information? Also I don't know where to buy the supplies on the list. Could I buy them in London? Is this a prank?  
_ - _Harry Potter._

Harry folded the page up and handed it to the bird. "Could you take this...to whoever sent this?" He held up the parchment. The bird took his letter and flew out the way it had come, leaving Harry baffled and more confused than he'd ever been in his entire life. He still wasn't convinced that it had actually happened. Harry gathered up his letter and took it to the cupboard under the stairs. He hid it under his bed under a loose floorboard. He looked at the clock, and saw that he still had hours until the Dursleys would be home. He thought a nap sounded nice. So he locked himself back into the cupboard, if they came back, and curled into a ball under his covers.

* * *

It'd been a week since Harry had received that strange letter. He didn't know what he was expecting, but as the days came and went he felt more and more disheartened. Maybe he'd been wrong and it had all been a prank after all. Harry was doing his chores in the kitchen, with Petunia glaring at him from the stove. She was making a special dinner. She'd gotten a message in the mail that had turned her mood sour, or more sour than usual. Harry scrubbed the floor, trying to ignore her gaze.

Harry jumped when the front door slammed open and Vernon stormed in. He was clutching five letters in his hand. He rushed at Harry and grabbed him by the hair, pulling the boy to his feet. Harry wasn't sure what he'd done. Vernon shook him violently. "Who have you been speaking to, boy?!" he screamed. When Harry didn't answer him, Vernon grabbed the boy by the front of his shirt and hauled him roughly to the cupboard. Vernon removed his belt and smacked Harry across the back with it. Just four times. Harry held in his screams. It could have been much worse, as he well knew.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Harry gasped, trying to rise to his knees. He grunted when Vernon smacked him across the face with the belt buckle. "I haven't been talking to anyone." His nose was bleeding, maybe broken, Harry wasn't sure. He wiped the blood off his face and kept his gaze on the floor. He knew that if he looked Vernon in the eyes he'd take it as a sign that Harry was being disrespectful. He'd get ten lashes for that.

"Vernon!" Petunia shrieked, trying to pull her husband away from the boy. "T-they'll know!" she gasped. She hugged his arm. "There's nothing we can do about them now."

Vernon reluctantly moved away from Harry, and looked at him with wild, angry eyes. He turned away and slammed the cupboard door shut. "You stay quiet boy, or I'll kill you." He threatened, before shutting the vent, leaving Harry in mostly darkness. Harry could hear Vernon and Petunia arguing. "I won't have one of those THINGS in my house!" Vernon screamed. "We said when we took him in, we'd beat it out of him, we just haven't beat hard enough."

Harry could say with certainty that he'd been beaten quite hard. He rubbed the welt on his face from the buckle. He curled up in the corner of his cupboard. He grabbed the threadbare baby blanket he'd had for as long as he could remember. It was the only thing he had that his parents might have given him. There were no pictures, no toys, no letters. It had become his safety net whenever he felt afraid. He really needed it in that moment, but not even the soft fabric was helping him calm down. He had no idea what was happening, but in the Dursley household, Harry never had to actually do anything to make them angry.

He sat curled in the corner for ten minutes before there was a sharp knocking on the door. Harry jumped, though he knew that it wasn't on his cupboard. He heard his aunt walk quickly to the door. She was muttering nervously. When she opened the door she let out a gasp. " _You!"_ She hissed. "You awful, vile, man!"

"Petunia Evans." The person at the door said coldly. They were male and their voice was a low drawl. Every word he spoke seemed deliberate. "Are you going to invite me in, or do you muggles know nothing of manners?" The man asked.

Petunia shifted and stepped to the side. "I suppose you'll be wanting some tea." she said stiffly, walking into the hallway. "Come then."

Harry couldn't see them, but he could hear them walk into the kitchen. A chair was pulled out and the man sat down. "Where is the boy, Evans?" the man asked.

"Not here." she said stiffly. She put the kettle on the stove. "He's...visiting a friend at the moment."

"When will he return?" he asked. "Will he be calling you to let you know?"

"No." she said. "He will return eventually. You might as well come back another day."

"I think not." he said. There was the sound of a cup being set down on the table, and water being poured inside it. "Where is your husband?"

"He's taken our son out for a trip to the movies."

The man hummed and took a sip of his tea. He set the cup down on the saucer. "Why are you lying to me?" he asked quickly. "Potter isn't out with friends, so where is he?' the man demanded in a low, dangerous voice.

Harry could feel his heart hammering in his chest. What did this man want with him? Was he the one who sent the letter? Why was he talking to his aunt like that? He sounded like a dangerous person. Harry squeezed his eyes closed and his mind ran through a thousand different reasons of why the man was there, and very few of them were good. He could hear his aunt trying to stutter something out. She was clearly caught in surprise by the man.

The man was silent. The cup crashed onto the floor, shattering. Petunia shrieked, and she jumped. "You vile woman!" He growled lowly. He left the kitchen, his boots thumping against the tile and on the hardwood floors. The man stood in front of the door of the cupboard and Harry was holding his breath. The latch was lifted and the cupboard was flooded with the light of the hallway. Harry looked up and came face to face with the stranger. He was tall and lanky. His hair reached his chin, and it looked very greasy. His nose was hooked and his eyes were dark black.

"Who are you?" Harry asked.

The man observed him with a grim expression. He looked over Harry, and all of Harry's injuries. "I am Severus Snape." The man held out a hand for Harry, and he took it, pulling himself up with a pain filled grunt. The man grabbed Harry's chin and turned his head side to side with the frown getting deeper. "Dumbledore will be in touch, Evans." The man said, grinding his teeth together. "I will be taking the boy with me."

"W-what?" Harry asked in alarm, pulling away from the man. "Where are you taking me?"

"Somewhere safe." The man assured him. "We received your owl and I have been sent to help you buy your supplies for your first year."

"You mean...that wasn't a prank?" Harry asked with wide eyes. He smiled at the man brightly. "It's really true...the... _magic?"_ Harry whispered the last part, as if he expected Petunia to come out with a frying pan and smack him upside the head for saying the forbidden word. Worse than asking questions, was talking about anything strange around his relatives. So being worried what his aunt would do if she heard it was a fair concern. Harry looked up when he heard his aunt gasp. He unconsciously pulled closer to the man. "Is it real?"

"Yes, of course it is." The man, Severus said, a slight sneer on his face. "I'm not surprised you're uneducated. I will teach you what I can, in the short time we have, but let us depart. We will be buying your supplies today." The man held out his hand and Harry grabbed his hesitantly. The man touched a stick, what Harry imagined to be his wand, to a pendent and suddenly it felt like Harry was being pulled through a tight tube under his navel.


	2. Diagon Alley

They arrived in the middle of a crowded home. There were piles of books in the corner that were wall to ceiling. There were roots and plants and odd smelling vials of liquid on almost every table. Harry looked around him, still feeling dizzy from the journey they'd just taken. "Where are we, sir?" Harry asked, turning back to the man. Severus Snape didn't seem phased by being pulled through the tight tube, not a hair was out of place.

"We are in my home." He said. He turned, sweeping his cloak behind him as he moved. "Follow me." He ordered Harry stiffly. Harry followed after him silently. He opened a door and pushed Harry inside, before closing the door. He pulled out his wand and the room was flooded with candle light. He directed Harry to sit in a chair next to a wooden table covered with more plants, as well as jars of disgusting looking mysteries. The man opened a box and pulled out white bandages. He grabbed a jar of something that was an opaque mint green. He opened the jar, and dipped the bandages inside. He put them aside and grabbed a damp cloth. He handed it to Harry, witch an order to clean off his face. The man watched him with unnerving black eyes as he did so. When he was sure that Harry had done it correctly he took the rag, throwing it into a trash bin by the side of the desk. He grabbed the bandages and ordered Harry to take off his shit. 

"Why, sir?" Harry asked, looking at the man strangely.

"Address me as professor or professor Snape." He told him shortly. "I noticed when you stood that there was tension in your back. The same tension someone who has been whipped has. Have you been whipped,  _ Potter _ ?" Harry jumped at the way the professor hissed his name, like it was a nasty word. He grabbed the bandages. "This salve will heal the wounds and prevent infection." 

Harry nodded and pulled the large shirt over his head, hissing as he had to pull the fabric loose from places where the blood had dried on it. Professor Snape walked around him until he was standing directly behind Harry. He leaned down and hissed at what he saw. He muttered something under his breath. He grabbed another damp cloth and wiped away all the dried blood, ignoring as Harry whined and twisted uncomfortably. He laid the bandages over Harry's wounds carefully. When he pulled away, he was wiping blood off of his hand. "Any other injuries I need to concern myself with?" He asked. 

"My nose...might be broken." He said hesitantly. 

Snape looked at his nose and nodded. "It is broken." He reached into his sleeve and removed his wand, pointing it to Harry's face. "Brackium Emendo." He said. Harry let out a cry of pain when his nose snapped into place. He covered his face and groaned lowly. "I had expected much more whining from you, Potter." The man said, handing Harry back his shirt. Harry wasn't sure if that was an insult or not, but the tone of voice made it sound like it very much was one. Harry scowled at the man. The man glared back at him, narrowing his eyes dangerously. Harry stiffened and turned his head away, looking away towards the wall. 

"You'll be staying here tonight." The man said. "But first, we'll be going to Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies." He pointed his wand at Harry again. "Scourgify. Tergeo." He said. Harry suddenly felt all the grime and dirt leave him. His clothes felt cleaner too. "There, now you're..." He paused and sneered. 

"Presentable?" Harry asked. 

"Hmph." The man smirked at him. " _ I suppose _ , if that's what you call it." He held out his arm and gestured for Harry to grab it. Harry did so, and they were inside that tube once more. They were standing inside a bar. Harry covered his mouth and doubled over, trying not to vomit. Not that there was anything in his stomach anyways. Harry steadied himself, and saw that there were several people who were watching him, a few even seemed to be laughing at him. He felt a blush rise to his cheeks and he straightened out his large clothes. 

"Professor!" The barman said with a grin. "Here for a drink." 

"No." The man said. "I am escorting a new student to buy his supplies." He said. He grabbed Harry by the shoulder and pushed him towards the back of the pub. They stood in front of a brick wall. Snape pulled out his wand and touched the stone quickly. The brick he had touched quivered -- it wriggled -- in the middle, a small hole appeared -- it grew wider and wider -- a second later they were facing an archway that led onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight. Harry's mouth fell open in wonder as he was nudged through by Snape. 

Snape put two fingers under his chin and pushed his mouth closed. Harry flushed red, and pulled his head away. Snape walked forward and Harry stumbled after him, trying to keep up, while also taking in the many sights, smells, and sounds of the magical alley. He wished he had way more eyes so he could take in everything at once. The shops were close together, with stands outside them. There were laughing children and hooting owls. They passed by a woman who was complaining to her friend about the prices of dragon liver. Harry wished that they could stop and look at the owls, but Snape grabbed him by the shirt sleeve and pulled him away with an order not to get distracted.

Snape stopped suddenly, his hands clasped in front of him. "We're at our first stop." He said. Harry gazed up at the marble white building that dwarfed the rest of the shops that were close to it. Coming out of the doors were goblins, or what Harry thought were goblins. They were shorter than Harry. They had pointed faces with wise eyes. Harry watched them as they went into the building. 

"What is this place, sir?" Harry asked. 

"This, is the wizarding bank, Gringotts." Snape cast a disproving look down at him. "Your muggle relatives might have saw fit not to educate you about our world, but if you  _ must  _ ask ignorant questions, I'd appreciate it if you did so when we were out of sight of others. It's terribly embarrassing for me to be seen with someone who know so little." He smirked at Harry, like a cat, wickedly stalking his prey. 

Harry frowned and glared at the man, tightening his hands into fists. He had another question, but he'd wait. ' _ Wouldn't want offend his delicate sensibilities.'  _ Harry thought, pushing past Snape and up the sitars of the large building. Harry stopped at the silver doors, with words engraved onto them. 

_ Enter, stranger, but take heed  _

_ Of what awaits the sin of greed,  _

_ For those who take, but do not earn,  _

_ Must pay most dearly in their turn.  _

_ So if you seek beneath our floors  _

_ A treasure that was never yours,  _

_ Thief, you have been warned, beware  _

_ Of finding more than treasure there. _

"Hurry!" Snape snapped at him, opening the heavy door. The man just seemed more and more irritated with Harry as time went on. The boy wondered where the vaguely caring man he'd first met had gone. Replacing him was a man who seemed irritated by every move that Harry made. Not that it was unfamiliar to Harry to be hated for existing. His relatives had trained him well to accept that.   

Snape took the lead once more, walking briskly into the bank, the marble clicking under his feet. People seemed to just move automatically out of Snape's way as he sauntered right up to the front desk. The goblin made them wait a few seconds. When he looked up, Snape removed a key from his pocket and handed it to the man. "We're here to withdraw money from Harry Potter's vault. 

The goblin smacked his hands down and leaned over the desk, and looked over Harry. The 11 year old stiffened under the scrutiny. "Very well, I will have someone take you down. Griphook!" 

Griphook was another goblin. He gestured for Snape and Harry to follow him. They trailed after him and stopped when Griphook held a door open for them. Harry, who had expected more marble, was surprised. They were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were little railway tracks on the floor. Griphook whistled and a small cart came hurtling up the tracks toward them. They climbed in and were off quickly. At first they just hurtled through a maze of twisting passages. Harry tried to remember, left, right, right, left, middle fork, right, left, but it was impossible. The rattling cart seemed to know its own way, because Griphook wasn't steering.

Harry's eyes were watering, but he threw his arms up in the air, a smile lighting up his face. His eyes were burning, but he refused to keep them closed, not wanting to miss even a second of the ride. Once, he thought he saw a burst of fire at the end of a passage and twisted around to see if it was a dragon, but too late - - they plunged even deeper, passing an underground lake where huge stalactites and stalagmites grew from the ceiling and floor. "What's the difference between stalagmite and stalactites?!" He yelled at Snape, who was giving him yet another, unamused glare. 

"A stalactite is an icicle-shaped formation that hangs from the ceiling of a cave, and is produced by precipitation of minerals from water dripping through the cave ceiling. Most stalactites have pointed tips. A stalagmite is an upward-growing mound of mineral deposits that have precipitated from water dripping onto the floor of a cave. Most stalagmites have rounded or flattened tips." 

Harry felt his left eye twitch. He had no idea how the man made science somehow sound insulting. When the cart stopped at last beside a small door in the passage wall Harry jumped out after the Goblin and stretched his arms above his head, his smile still wide and unapologetic about the fun he'd just had. The goblin took the key from Snape and placed the lantern in Harry's arms. 

Griphook unlocked the door. A lot of green smoke came billowing out, and as it cleared, Harry gasped. Inside were mounds of gold coins. Columns of silver. Heaps of little bronze Knuts. He looked over the money, trying to not let his jaw hit the floor again in front of Snape. "Is this...all really mine?" Harry asked, turning to Snape who rolled his eyes but nodded. 

Harry stepped cautiously into the vault. Snape handed him a medium sized coin purse. He advised Harry stiffly to only take what he would need for the school year. The Dursleys couldn't have known about this or they'd have had it from him faster than blinking. How often had they complained how much Harry cost them to keep? And all the time there had been a small fortune belonging to him, buried deep under London.  

"Well, how much will I need?" Harry asked, picking up a few of the coins. 

Snape paused for a moment. "Take a fifty Galleons, fifty Sickles, 100 Knuts." Snape said finally. "Add an extra fifty Galleons, I'll be taking you to buy new clothes. The ones you are in presently make you look like some kind of under-stuffed scarecrow." 

"Okay, hurtful." Harry said. He counted out the money carefully. When he was finished he noticed that the bag hadn't become any heavier, and it didn't even look stuffed. Magic, he assumed, was at work. He looked into the bag, and saw all of his money was clearly there. Harry pulled back and reached his hand in. He managed to get up to his elbow before he touched the bottom. "Amazing." He whispered with a smile. 

"Yes, now let's go." Snape told him. 

Harry sighed and stood up. "Um, excuse me, Griphook?" Harry asked, smiling pleasantly to the goblin. Harry made sure he had the goblins attention. "Who would I speak to about the banking information of my vault?" 

"You can sign up for a monthly update of your holdings. When we go up to the main room, we could have someone sit down with you to do so.” 

Harry looked up at Snape who rolled his eyes but nodded  his consent to waiting a bit longer. “Awesome! Thank you, uh, how long does it normally take?” 

“Not long. We just need a drop of your blood.” The goblin smiled viciously at Harry’s startled expression. 

One exhilarating cart ride later and a much less exciting wait in the banks main room, Harry was sitting in front of a withered goblin who was holding out his hand expectantly, a silver knife in the other. Harry relented and closed his eyes when his finger was pricked quickly. The goblin held his finger over a bowl of silver liquid, and Harry watched in amazement as his blood mixed with it. 

The goblin poured the mixture over a long piece of parchment. It dried instantly, leaving red ink behind. The goblin grabbed the parchment and looked it over. “You have holdings over the Potter vault, naturally.” The goblin said, laying the parchment down. He pointed to the next item on the list. “Your mother’s vault is for your tuition, she made that clear in your will. You’re also entitled to a share of the Black family vault, as your great grandmother, Dorea Black’s,  only living heir.” 

Harry looked over the names and felt his heart almost stop when he looked at the numbers. There were just, so many. 

“As a living member of the Black family you’re entitled to all the privileges of Dorea Black’s family, including her properties and her seats on the Wizengamot. The Potter family status awards you the same privileges. However you hold sole ownership of the Potter name, and everything that entails.” 

“There’s so much.” Harry gasped, placing a hand on his chest. 

“I wouldn’t be too concerned.” The goblin said. “You aren’t allowed any of your lordship titles until you turn 17. However, you may elect someone over the age of 17 to handle your seats on the Wizengamot. But the money cannot be touched for the next six years.” 

“How would I pick someone to do that?” Harry asked. 

“Do you know what the Wizengamot is?” The goblin asked. 

“Like parlement?” Harry guessed. 

“Yes, percissly. You pick someone that you trust to handle your seats to vote on laws for you. You can ask them to vote one way, so you have your voice still heard until you reach maturity.” 

“What if they don’t vote how I want?” Harry asked. 

“Then you can fire them, essentially. Then pick someone else. However I recommend that you pick someone you know that you can trust.” The goblin pushed his glasses up his nose and flipped through another piece of paper. He frowned deeply. 

“Is there something wrong, sir?” Harry asked. 

“Yes, perhaps there is.” The goblin slid the paper over the desk. “In your parents will, they instructed you be given an allowance every month, yet it says here you never signed for them. Were you not receiving them?” He asked. 

“No!” Harry said, wide eyed. “I never thought I had any money. Where was that money going then?” 

“We aren’t sure. We should have been alerted about this.” The goblin hummed, and bounced his leg up and down on the floor. “It says here that the payments have been received, but we don’t know by who. Would you like us to freeze it?” 

“What would that do?” 

“It would stop the flow of money completely. Whoever is doing this will no longer get payments.” 

“Then, yes.” Harry nodded. “Please freeze it.” 

“Alright…” the goblin began to scribble down notes quickly. “One last thing, then our business is concluded.” He pulled out one last slip of parchment. “It seems that during the war, a part of the Malfoy family holdings that had been suspected of aiding the Dark Lord had been seized and given to James Potter.” The goblin grinned. “I would  _ highly  _ recommend that you return it to Lucius Malfoy, as well as an apology letter. Seeing as he was cleared of all charges, he will eventually sue you for his holdings. He might even take your own. I’d act quickly, Mr. Potter.” 

Harry looked to Snape, who was reading through a book. “The Dark Lord?” He asked in confusion. He saw the way Snape tensed up. He took a deep breath. 

“I will explain later.” Was all he said. “I would do as the banker says. I know Lucius personally. He will ruin you if you try and keep what’s his. Return his holdings.” 

“Alright. Can we do that now?” Harry asked the goblin who nodded. 

The goblin got up from his desk and shuffled around the room, grabbing blank parchment and a quill. “Write him a letter, officially relinquishing the holdings.” 

Harry nodded and got to work. Harry had to write four drafts of the letter until both the goblin and Snape were satisfied with it. When he saw finished, Harry’s hand had cramped up, but he signed it quickly. 

_ Dear Lord Lucius Malfoy,  _

_ It has come to my attention that my father came into possession of some of the holdings belonging to your family. The reason being that you were suspected of aiding the Dark Lord with that particular vault. It was quickly proven that this was false, however, instead of returning the vault to you, it has been kept under my name all these years, without my prior knowledge.  _

_ As I once again enter into the wizarding world, I see it as only right to return it to you, in the hopes that my predecessors actions have not caused you to think ill of us. Thought I could not blame you, considering the unfair slander of your character.  _

_ Please accept my most humble of apologies on behalf of those who had seized your property originally, as well as from myself for taking such a long time to return them to you.  _

_ I hope this means we can continue forward into the future amiably.   _

_ -Harry James Potter  _

He looked over the letter and found that he didn’t even understand what most of those words meant. Snape had been reading over his shoulder, telling him to use this fancy word or another. Harry let the ink dry on the paper and looked at the goblin who was writing up the official transfer for him to sign. He signed that quickly too, and then the goblin was folding the messages up and stuffing them into an envelope. “Send it yourself. It will mean more.” He said with a smile. Harry stood and shook hands with the goblin, thanking him for his time. Then he and Snape were making their way back out into the bussy street.

“Where to next?” Harry asked the tall man. 

“You may as well stop by Madam Malkin’s and get your uniform.” He gestured with his chin to the robe shop that was right next door. “I will take your letter and mail it to Lord Malfoy. If you are finished before I return, you will go to Ollivander’s and get your wand. I will meet you there.” 

Harry nodded and walked off on his own, coin purse in hand. Harry entered Madam Malkin's shop alone, feeling nervous. Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve. "Hogwarts, dear?" she said, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here -- another young man being fitted up just now, in fact."

“Yes, Hogwarts. I was also hoping I could be fitted for uh...casual clothing?” He smiled at her and she nodded quickly, taking him into the back room. There was a taller boy with black hair and a pointed face. He was being fitted for Hogwarts robes, with a snake crest. Harry remembered that the Hogwarts crest had a snake on it, also a bird, a lion, and a badger. 

The boy looked older and was giving Harry a scathing, calculated look. “Hello.” Harry greeted with a hesitant smile. The boy nodded and Harry stepped onto the pedestal next to him. A woman came out and started to measure him. 

“First year?” The boy asked, looking down on him. Harry noticed that his eyes were a bright blue. 

“Yeah.” Harry nodded. “I don’t suppose. You’re a first year too?”  

The boy snorted. “No, third year.” He said. “Slytherin. What house do you want to be in?” He asked. 

“Not sure. Wherever I fit, I’d guess.” Harry laughed nervously. “I’m Harry Potter by the-OW!” Harry jumped when the woman who was starting to make his outer robes stabbed him with the needle. The woman was looking at him with awe, as were the other two. 

“Oh! I’m so sorry! Mister Potter, sir!” The woman said. She stood and shook his hand before she went back to work. Harry looked at her with wide eyes.

The other boy smiled and held out his hand. “My name is Atlas, Atlas Lestrange.” Harry shook his hand and the boy thought for a moment. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Potter.”  

“Oh, um, thank you!” 

"That's you’re done, my dear," Madam Malkin said and the boy stepped down from the stool. 

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said the drawing boy. He gave Harry one more smile, before he ducked away out the door. 

“What color robes would you like for your casual clothes, dear?” The old woman asked with a sweet smile. 

“Well, I really like blue, and green.” Harry thought for a moment. “Black also goes with everything though.” He hummed quietly. 

“We could give you one blue and one black?” She suggested. “Green in a little bit pricey.”  She then handed him a catalogue. “We also have a few muggle style cuts. They’re cheaper, and useful.” 

“I’d like a few of those too.” Harry counted his coins. “How much will that be?” He asked her nervously. 

“Seventy-five Galleons, dear.” 

Harry sighed in relief. He’d still have money. When they were finished with his robes, Harry went to the wand shop, like he’d been instructed.  Peeling gold letters over the door read Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window. A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as he stepped inside. 

Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library; he swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

"Good afternoon," said a soft voice. Harry jumped. 

An old man was standing before them, his wide, pale eyes shining like moons through the gloom of the shop. 

"Hello," said Harry awkwardly. He smiled though, not wanting to be rude. 

"Ah yes," said the man. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." It wasn't a question. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."  

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those 65 silvery eyes were a bit creepy. Mr. Ollivander had come so close that he and Harry were almost nose to nose. Harry could see himself reflected in those misty eyes. "And that's where..." Mr. Ollivander touched the lightning scar on Harry's forehead with a long, white finger. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands... well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do...."

"Hmmm," said Mr. Ollivander, giving him a piercing look. "Well, now -- Mr. Potter. Let me see." He pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. "Which is your wand arm?" 

"I use my right hand, sir." said Harry.      __

"Right then, Mr. Potter.” He reached behind him, and pulled out a black box. “Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave." 

Harry took the wand and (feeling like a total idiot) waved it around a bit, but Mr. Ollivander snatched it out of his hand almost at once. "Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try --" Harry tried -- but he had hardly raised the wand when it, too, was snatched back by Mr. Ollivander.  

"No, no -here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out." 

Harry tried. And tried. He had no idea what Mr. Ollivander was waiting for. The pile of tried wands was mounting higher and higher on the spindly chair, but the more wands Mr. Ollivander pulled from the shelves, the happier he seemed to become. 

"Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere -- I wonder, now - - yes, why not -- unusual combination -- holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."  

Harry took the wand. He felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of red and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls. Mr. Ollivander cried, "Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious... " 

Harry looked at him with a deep frown. “What’s curious sir? I don’t understand.” 

The old man nodded. “Indeed, I imagine there’s much you don’t understand. Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry swallowed. 

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things -- terrible, yes, but great." Harry shivered. He wasn't sure he liked Mr. Ollivander too much. He paid seven gold Galleons for his wand, and Mr. Ollivander bowed him from his shop. 

Harry stood with the box of his new wand in hand, so many unanswered questions round in his mind and not a single answer to even one of them.


	3. Spinners End

Chapter 3: Spinners End 

Snape came to get him twenty or so minutes later. He didn’t seem to be in high spirits. When Harry told him what had happened in the wand shop, the man tensed up again and nodded stiffly. They returned to shopping. They bought Harry's school books in a shop called Flourish and Blotts where the shelves were stacked to the ceiling with books as large as paving stones bound in leather; books the size of postage stamps in covers of silk; books full of peculiar symbols and a few books with nothing in them at all. Even Dudley, who never read anything, would have been wild to get his hands on some of those. Harry turned one book over in his hands, 1001 joke hexes. He could think of a million ways he could use that. 

Snape snatched the book out of his hands and smacked it down onto the shelf with a growl. He tried to pull Harry out of the book shop after that. “We won’t be staying if you’re going to waste my time on this nonsense.” 

“I was only looking.” Harry told him, looking back at the books with longing. “Please, let me stay a little longer.” 

Snape turned and let go of his wrist. “You have what you need.” Snape snapped. “We will be on our way at once. I am sick of the crowds.” 

Harry sighed but followed without further complaint. He looked around the Alley one more time while they were walking. The sun was starting to set and the shops were being lit outside with lanterns that sparkled every color that Harry could imagine. Harry wanted to beg the man to let him stay in the alley, for awhile longer. He wanted to see what it looked like when it was dark. He could image the beauty already, and it  didn’t seem fair that he wouldn’t get to see it. 

“My letter said I could get a pet.” Harry said, trailing after Snape, who wasn’t interested. “Can I get a pet?” 

“I am sure you are quite capable of getting a pet for yourself, Potter.” Snape said. “However, you  _ may  _ not purchase one tonight.”  

Harry looked at Snape incredulously. “Did you...correct my grammar?” He asked, almost offended. 

“I’m glad the two brain cells you have, haven’t completely failed you yet.” The man said. 

Harry glared up at the back of Snape’s head but stayed quiet. They moved back through the archway and back into the pub. Snape ordered him to sit somewhere so Harry sat down in a booth. Snape wandered away to speak to the barmen and returned with two menus. He placed one in front of Harry and then sat across from him. 

Harry looked as the little witch on a broom was moving lazily around the page. He followed her with his finger, a small smile on his face. She looked up and smiled back at him. 

“Point your finger at what you want.” Snape told him, looking over his own menu. “Surely you can manage that.” 

“Alright.”  Harry found something that sounded interesting. The ‘Cauldron Chowder.’ The witch titler her hat and flew off the page. Harry watched her in amazement and turned the page over. “Where did she go?” Harry asked Snape, who had pulled a book from his robes. 

He looked at and stared at Harry, irritation clear on his face. Harry was sure that Snape wasn’t interested in answering his questions. Harry tensed and looked down, uttering a quick apology. He looked down at his lap and fiddled with a thread that was coming off of his shirt. 

“She went to tell the cook our orders.” Snape said, his nose back in his book. They sat quietly until a floating tray stopped in front of their table, to give them their orders. Harry took his chowder and smiled softly, leaning back in his booth. It was the most wonderful thing he’d ever tasted. Not that he had much to compare it too. 

Snape finished his food quickly and looked down on Harry who was still eating slowly. The man didn’t seem to mind. He was halfway through his book. Harry wasn’t able to finish his food and when he couldn’t eat another bite it disappeared. Harry looked at it in amazement, much like everything else he’d seen. 

Snape put down a few silver coins and gestured with his chin for Harry to get up and follow him again. Harry nodded and bowed his head. Snape was pushing Harry towards a fireplace when someone called his name. Snape stiffened and turned. 

A tall man with very light blonde hair, who was dressed to the nines, dark green robes and black underclothes. He carried a cane, with a snake head on it. He had cold silver eyes that danced with amusement when he looked at Snape. 

His companion was a bit shorter, but was in no way less intimidating. His hair was a darker blonde and his eyes were muted blue. He was frowning deeply as he walked on the left side of the other man. He was in a pinstripe blue suit with pointed brown shoes. 

“Severus, fancy seeing you here.” He smiled, holding out his arms, as if he was going to embrace the man. He didn’t, instead standing in front of him, resting both hands on his cane.

“Lucius, Yaxley.” Snape nodded to the men, he crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m unfortunately unable to speak for the moment. I’ll make sure to write as soon as I can.” 

“We understand.” The taller of the two men turned his attentions to Harry and smiled unpleasantly. “Dumbledore has you escorting little first year muggleborns through the alley, does he?” He asked. “How are you enjoying it so far, young man.” 

Harry cleared his throat nervously. “I’m fine, sir, thank you.” He held out his hand, and the man ignored it. “I’m Harry Potter, sir. Nice to meet you.” The man’s eyes snapped to Harry’s forehead and Snape tightened his hand on Harry’s shoulder. 

The man took his hand and his smile seemed much more genuine but his eyes were shining with something almost dark that Harry couldn’t put his finger on. “Wonderful to meet you, Mr. Potter. I was actually on my way to the bank after receiving your letter this morning.” 

“Oh!” Harry smiled bashfully. “Sorry it took so long to get your stuff back.” He said. 

“Not to worry, Mr. Potter, the situation has been fixed thanks to you.” He withdrew his hand and. Snape who was standing behind Harry stiffly. “Perhaps Mr. Potter would be interest in being a guest at our dinner table tonight, so I may thank him properly.”  

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea at the moment.” Snape said. “Potter’s been about all day and it’s time we returned him-” 

“Not to the Dursleys, right?” Harry asked, suddenly feeling panicked. They’d kill him if he returned. “You said that I could stay with you.” 

Snape sighed deeply and nodded. Malfoy ginned brightly. “Well then, surely it wouldn’t be any trouble, would it Severus? Perhaps, Mr. Potter would like to wait until tomorrow when he’s well rested and more, prepared to attend dinner.” 

Harry was still a little unsure, but Malfoy seemed nice enough. So when Snape said nothing Harry nodded. “Yes sir, that’d be nice, thank you.” 

“Sure wonderful manners.” He said. He nodded once to Harry before wishing Snape well and disappearing through the alley archway with his traveling companion. 

“You best keep your wits about you, Potter.” Snape snapped. He threw a handful of green powder into the fireplace and pulled Harry inside with him. Harry shouted when he fell through, expecting to be burned, but instead found himself laying face first on Snape’s hardwood floors. He pulled himself up from the ground as Snape stepped over him and through the house. 

Harry pulled himself up from the ground and looked back at the fireplace as the last of the green flames were going out. Harry wondered into the kitchen, where Snape was pulling things out of the fridge and flicking his wand around the room, lighting the stove, and setting down pots. 

“What do you mean, sir?” Harry asked, sitting down at the table. Snape turned to him, his frown still held in place. Harry thought that maybe Snape didn’t want him sitting at the table, so Harry moved to stand, but stopped when Snape held up a hand and gestured with his fingers for Harry to sit back down. Snape pushed Harry’s chair further in, and knocked his elbows off the table. 

Snape flicked his wand, and a host of silverware, plates, and cups flew onto the table, arranging themselves neatly. Harry looked at them, blinking quickly. There was a bowl of clear soup that suddenly appeared in front of him. Harry reached for a spoon, but he heard Snape clear his throat, and stopped. 

“Lucius Malfoy will notice your lack of knowledge. The least you can do is know how to eat properly.” Snape said. He cleared his throat and straightened his back, letting his shoulders stiffen, and lifting his chin. “Sit like this during the appetizers. Start with your silverware, work your way from the outside in.”       

Harry mirrored his posture and looked up at the man for approval. When Snape nodded, he grinned triumphantly. Harry reached for his spoon but Snape shook his head quickly. “No, no, that’s for your hands.” He said. Harry looked up and watched as Snape dipped the tips of his fingers into the clear bowl. When Harry corrected his mistake Snape nodded. He showed Harry how to dry his hands off. “Never flick, always dab.” He’d said as he used a red cloth to dry his hands. That same cloth went onto Snape’s lap. 

When they were half-way through the main course Snape told him he was allowed to relax his posture but  _ never  _ to slouch. He had to wait until the head of the household finished their second glass of wine before Harry could ask for another, but since Harry was underaged anyways he wouldn’t have to worry about wine, but the same applied to water and other drinks. Harry was also never to refill his own cup or reach for seconds from the table, which was apparently was a rude way in the wizarding world’s high society that one assumed their host was unable to tend to their needs. 

When it came to desert, he was only socially allowed to eat half of it, if it was a slice cake, but was required to eat the entire piece if it was a smaller pastry. Afterwards, the lady of the house would ask Harry to join her and her husband in the drawing room for a cup of tea, then he’d be released to leave, unless it was after eight thirty, then he was required to stay the night.

Harry could feel his head spinning with all those rules being jam packed into his head. But he was sure he could remember it all. When Snape let him leave the table Harry wondered into the room that was being loaned to him for the night. There was a potion on his bedside table that he was to take before he went to bed, so he wouldn’t be in pain in the morning. There were also a few books on the bedside table.  _ ‘The Modern Wizarding Wars.’  _ and  _ ‘The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord.’  _

Harry sat down on the bed and looked at his disgusting old socks, that were caked with sweat and dirt from the two years he’d had only the one pair. The next time he had a chance, he vowed to buy himself from new socks. He pulled them off his feet and threw them into the trash. He watched as they disappeared with a small puff of air.   

“I love magic.” Harry said, sitting on his bed and grabbing one of the books that Snape had put on the bedside table. There was an old grandfather clock in the back corner of the room, that was humming quietly to itself. It was only about six, but he didn’t want to be underfoot or anything that might make Snape angry. 

The man was an enigma to Harry. A majority of the time he was snappish, rude, sarcastic, or otherwise unpleasant towards Harry. Yet at the same time he took the time to teach Harry how to eat properly, he saved Harry from the Dursleys, he ever was letting Harry stay in his home overnight. Harry didn’t know how to feel about Snape. 

He opened “ _ The Rise and Fall of The Dark Lord.”  _ to the first page. The intro was only a few paragraphs long. 

_ The Dark Lord, also known as He-Who-Cannot-Be-Named, also known as You-Know-Who. Only the bravest, or the most foolish would dare to speak his name at the height of his power. Even today, we remember him with fear and trembling. But simply for this book, I shall refer to his name, but only this once. You have been warned. Voldemort. I shudder, simply thinking the name.  _

_ He began his rise to power, some people think, as early as 1959 when he stepped out from the shadows to begin his stunning public debut at the famed Black Family Yule Ball. But no one thought much of the handsome young man, but in 1967, He  threw himself into the eyesight of the Auror department after the murder of several muggleborn graduates from Hogwarts School. Afterwards, he quickly began to gain followers, and as he gained power bloodshed soon followed.  _

_ There seemed to be no end in sight, but in the very peak of his power, He was shockingly and suddenly defeated. Not by the aurors, not by any powerful wizards, but a small baby boy. No one knows why You-Know-Who went to kill the Potters on the night of October 31st, 1981, but one thing's for sure. Harry Potter defeated Him and was the only person in the history of wizard kind, that had ever survived the killing curse. While his parents both bravely lost their lives, no doubt defending their home and their child, they were found dead upon the ground. Yet their son, who only given a small lightning scar on his forehead.  _

Harry felt the book slip out of his hands and clatter onto the floor. He stood up slowly from the bed and opened the bedroom door. He could hear Snape shuffling around, cleaning things up in the front room, muttering to himself. Harry stepped out of the room and closed the door behind him. 

“Sir?” He called out into the front room. He heard the muttering and the moving objects stop. “Sir, I had a few questions.” He poked his head around the corner and saw that Snape was using his wand to lift a chair off the ground, while a broom was sweeping underneath. 

“I thought you might.” Snape said with a sigh. He lowered the chair to the ground and banished the broom off to some corner of the room. “Have a seat.” He said, pointing to the couch. He pointed his wand at the fireplace and it lit, though there wasn’t any wood. 

Harry sat down and put his hands in his lap. Snape stayed standing. When it was apparent that Snape was waiting for him to say something Harry tightened his hands together. “The book, it said that they...they were...murdered.” He whispered the last part, having a hard time forcing the words out of his mouth. “My aunt and uncle, they said my parents died in a car crash.” 

“A  _ car crash?”  _ Snape spat, causing Harry to jump. “A car crash kill Lily and  _ James Potter.”  _ Harry noticed the way that Snape snarled out his father’s name, like it was some kind of filthy word. “They have lied to you Potter. Your parents were war heroes. They fought bravely against the Dark Lord, they sacrificed their lives for you, your mother especially, Your aunt and uncle were informed of their sacrifice and why you were being left of their doorstep.” 

“I was left on a doorstep as a baby?!” Harry asked in alarm. He sighed and shook his head. “Never mind, that’s not important.” He ran his hand over his face. “So my parents were murdered, and there was no one else who could take me in? No one? I have no family left other than the Dursleys?” 

“Yes, you have no other  _ close  _ living relatives.” Snape said. “You do, however, have many third and fourth cousins. Narcissa Malfoy would be your third cousin once removed.” He cleared his throat quietly. “But, as it was told to those who retrieved you from your parents house, your mother’s bloodline that was protecting you.” 

“Well, I don’t feel protected, at all.” Harry said, remembering the welts that his uncle had given him just that morning, for have the  _ audacity  _ to contact the people who’d sent his mail. “What’s the point of protection if my family is going to wind up killing me anyways.” 

Snape looked at Harry over his shoulder. “They will not harm you again.” He said sternly. Harry snorted and Snape glared hard at him. “Do not take my world lightly,  _ Potter.”  _ He said harshly. “They will not touch you again. I will be filling with the Ministry tomorrow afternoon, as it’s my job as a mandatory reporter, when I see that my students are being abused, it is against the law for me  _ not _ to report it. You cannot be taken from your family, however a ministry employee will stop by your home once every two weeks in randomly.” 

Harry hummed unhappily. Harry wanted to have hope, he did, but Harry remembered. When he was younger, he’d told a teacher that his uncle had hit him. They sent a social worker over to his house. Vernon-with the help of Petunia and Dudley- had convinced them that Harry was a nasty little liar. His teacher never looked at him the same way again and his uncle had beaten him worse then he ever had before. Harry was unconvinced that anything would change just because it was a wizard coming to check up on him. 

Harry nodded, he didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He got it, he was stuck there, and there was nothing anyone was going to do about it. Who cares how many scars, how ever many broken bones. “Thank you sir, excuse me.” He stood and nodded his head to the professor. 

“Good night, Potter.” Snape wouldn’t turn to look at Harry, his hand holding tightly to the mantle. His knuckles were white against his skin, the tips of his fingers were red.  Harry retreated back to his room, locking the door. 

He saw the book on the ground and picked it up, flipping it over in his hands. The book had blown his aunt and uncle’s lies wide open, and taken a part of him with it. How could he just believe a lie for ten years? Why wouldn’t his relatives tell him the truth? Harry looked at the clock again. It was almost seven. 

*_y=mx+b_*       

Harry stumbled out of the room when he smelled bacon. He walked into the dinning room and saw that Snape had set up the formal plates and cups again. Harry groaned but sat down in that straight backed way that Snape had instructed him the night before. 

Snape nodded to him, and they began to eat. Throughout the meal Snape corrected his posture or how he held his fork. But it went well, and quietly. When they were finished, Snape cleared the table with a flick of his wand. 

“An owl arrived earlier this morning to deliver the clothes you ordered in the Alley.” He said. He smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. “Good though, I shudder to think what the Malfoys would think of you if you showed up to dinner in  _ those.”  _ He stuck his nose up at Harry’s baggy clothes. “Change, and  _ burn  _ your muggle clothing.” 

Harry scowled, but silently agreed. They were disgusting. “I need socks. I had to throw my old pair away.” 

“New shoes too, I’d imagine.” He said looking over to Harry’s battered trainers that were by the door. “You may borrow a pair of my socks, for tonight only.” He said sternly. “Return them in the same condition they were given to you.” 

“Yes sir, thank you very much.” Harry left quickly so he could take a bath. An actual, warm bath


	4. Malfoy Manor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was hard for me to write. I just couldn't find the right words. Sorry if it seems a little clunky.

Harry Potter looked himself over in the mirror and nodded. He thought he looked more dressed up than he'd even been in his entire life. He licked the tip of his finger and brushed back a stray hair that was hanging in his face. His shirt was long and blue, with a subtle curled flair towards the front. It came to the middle of his thighs, and had black pants underneath. His outer robe was black, with silver buttons lining the front. He looked back at the clock. He had fifteen minutes before Mr. Malfoy said he'd come to collect Harry for dinner. Harry stood straighter and stuck out his chin. He thought he looked....ridiculous. 

He stepped out of his room and looked for Snape. He found the man reading, again. Snape looked up and nodded to him. "That will do." He snapped his book shut and placed it down onto the side table. He didn't stand, crossing one leg over the other. "Have you finished reading the books I lent you?" 

"No sir." Harry shook his head. Snape scoffed and rolled his eyes. Harry suddenly felt embarrassed. He straightened out his robes and smiled shyly. 

"Do you have everything packed in your trunk?" Snape asked. "Malfoy will be returning you to your relatives home. I will return your trunk to you tomorrow afternoon." He said with a frown. 

Harry wanted to argue with him. He'd rather sleep in the streets than return to the Dursley home. But he simply nodded unhappily. Snape seemed about as happy as he was about having to return to his aunt and uncle. No matter what Snape said, Harry would never feel safe living with the Dursley's. 

There was a loud crack from outside and Harry jumped in surprise. Snape stood and opened the door. Snape opened the door and Malfoy stood on the other side. He was dressed as elegantly as he had been the day before, but with accents of red along the inside of his cloak. "Mr. Potter." He smiled thinly and stretched out his hand. Harry shook it quickly, then tried to brush his hair out of his eyes, again. 

"Shall we be off then?" Malfoy asked, offering Harry his arm. Harry nodded and took his arm. He waved goodbye to Snape who nodded stiffly and closed the door on them. 

"I can't really tell if he likes me or not." Harry said mostly to himself, but when he heard Malfoy snicker quietly, he figured the man must have heard him. He blushed slightly and looked down. 

"That is the case for many of us, Mr. Potter." He said, then suddenly it was as if Harry was being pulled through a tube far to narrow for his body. Just like when Snape had taken him from the Dursley's. They reappeared outside tall wrought iron gate. There were hedges that surrounded the grounds of the large manor. Harry stared up at it in amazement. Malfoy led him up the narrow gravel walkway. He stopped in front of the gate, and tapped it with the end of his cane. The gate swung open and Harry took everything in with blinking eyes and confusion. 

The manor house itself was four stories with six tower. Two in the front, two in the back, and two on the east and west areas of the home. It was built, it seemed, by ancient stone, that seemed to have aged very well, with no sign of decay, but it was still obviously old. There were many large windows, which allowed the evening sun into the home. The grounds-that Harry could see anyways, which by the looks of the home, wasn't much-were beautiful. So gorgeous that aunt Petunia would probably die if she saw them. Harry began to sweat, imagining his aunt forcing him to tend to a garden that large all on his own. Harry yelped when a large screech caught him off guard. He looked up and found himself gazing upon the most entitled bird he'd ever seen in his life. A beautiful white peacock. 

Mr. Malfoy guided him by the shoulder the rest of the way to the double doors, which were made from dark wood. The doors opened on their own and Malfoy led the way into the home. There were three exquisitely dressed individuals waiting for him. Even in his new robes, Harry wondered if he was too scruffy to be standing in their beautiful home. The floor was made from black and white marble, and a large red carpet led them into the entrance hall. There was a grand staircase that led up to the next level of the home. 

Harry turned back to the people, who were smiling at him, their teeth far too shiny, and their smiles not reaching their eyes. Harry blinked when he saw the black haired one, who stood out like a sore thumb when he stood next to the other two blonds. Harry remembered him from the robes shop. "Hey, you're the one from the alley. Atlas Lestrange, right?" He said before he could stop himself. 

The young man smirked down at the blond boy who glared at him. "Told you so." He said, flexing his eyebrows. He broke ranks from the other two and offered his hand to Harry, who took it, reveled and surprised to see a familiar face. "Wonderful to see you again, Potter." He said, placing a hand behind Harry's back and pulling him further into the hall. 

Mr. Malfoy put a hand on Harry's shoulder and smiled at the woman and the boy, who were obviously his family. "Narcissa, Draco, may I have the honor of introducing you to Mr. Harry Potter." 

The woman, Narcissa, was the first of the two to greet him. She took her hand in her much more delicate one. She shook it gently and smiled beautifully at him. "Welcome to our home, Mr. Potter." She smiled with shinny teeth and red lips. She was dressed in a silver gown that looked as if it was covered in icicles. Harry wondered if maybe, by magic, it was. 

The next to greet him was the boy, who was about half a head taller than Harry. "Draco Malfoy." He said haughtily. "We're going to be in the same year at Hogwarts together. If you stick around me, you'll do fine." He put his hands on his hips. "Do you know what house you're going to be in? I just know I'm going to be in Slytherin, all my family has been." 

"N-no, not sure what house I'll be in." Harry wasn't sure how he felt. "Well, it'll be good to know someone." He wondered if anyone else could hear the slight panic in his voice. He still really didn't know much about the wizarding world, other than how to eat, and that he was famous for some reason.  

"Indeed, and knowing the great  _Draco Malfoy..."_ Atlas tutted with a shake of his black locks. "You'll be set for life, I dare say. The lesser beings simply  _fall_ before his feet." The younger boy glared at the older, who grinned. 

"Atlas..." Mrs. Malfoy said with a slight warning in her elegant voice. 

"Sorry, aunt Cissy." He chuckled. 

Harry wondered if that was what it was like to have a brother. Both the boys, somehow with their grins and teasing and arrogance, reminded him of prettier versions of Dudley. Mr. Malfoy instructed his son and Atlas to give Harry a short tour before dinner would be served. The younger of the two nodded, and grabbed Harry by the sleeve of his robe, and pulling him quickly up the stairs. 

Harry was released, only when they reached the top step. Harry looked around the hall and found that it was just as beautiful as the entrance hall. Harry looked down and saw Mr. Malfoy taking his wife gently by the hand and pulling her into another room, while she chuckled slightly at the joke he'd made. Draco grabbed him and pulled him towards a room. He opened the door and Harry was greeted with a light blue room that was decorated with all sorts of strange plants, as well as portraits that were moving, and speaking to each other. They stopped when the boys entered. 

"This is the drawing room." Draco said, waving at it with an uninterested hand. "This is where mother talks to her friends." He pointed to a painting that nodded to him, before turning away and speaking to a young woman in another painting who was giggling softly. "That's my grandfather, he died two years ago." 

"Oh, I'm sorry." Harry said. 

Draco frowned by nodded. "It's alright, he was very old." He explained. Draco pulled him out of the room and shut the door. They skipped two doors, before Draco opened another a door. It was a large library. There were four chess boards in the corners of the room. Draco quickly explained the history of the room. ("My grandmother loved books, this is just the first floor, but we aren't allowed to go to the other ones.) They moved onto another room, that appeared to be a study. Atlas explained that it was his. Harry asked what he needed a study for. 

"To study, obviously." He grinned and ruffled Harry's hair, and stepped inside. There were all sorts of trinkets laying about. Two arm chairs were seated by the fireplace, and a pitcher for water with two glasses. There was a girl's skirt on one of the chairs. Draco snickered and Atlas pinched his nose, much to the younger boy's irritation. There was a large desk in the far corner, and shelves of books. "This is nothing compared to Uncle Lucius's study, but we won't be showing you  _that._ He'd kill us." 

Draco then showed him three amazing guest bathrooms, a ball room, a game room with unfamiliar games and bottles of liquor on the high shelves. Harry guessed that the room was used by Mr. Malfoy and his friends, which it turned out he was right. 

The next floor belonged entirely to Draco and Atlas, as well as any guests they'd have. Draco showed him his room, and all the toys he had. Harry hated to admit that he was very jealous. He'd never had toys before. When Harry stated as much, Draco looked at him strangely. "What did you play with then?" He asked. He threw a bear aside on his bed and sat down. "Do you mean you've  _never_ had toys before?" he asked. 

"Never ever." Harry confirmed. He frowned at the bear that Draco had throw so casually. "My family doesn't like to buy me new things." He said with a shrug. 

"Who are your family?" Draco demanded, putting his hands on his hips. "Every child should get toys, I'll have my father speak to them. I'm sure when they see the  _Lucius Malfoy_ is unhappy with them, they'll sort themselves out." 

"They won't really care." Harry said bluntly. "They aren't magic, so they'd probably get madder at me, if a wizard showed up at their door." 

Draco gasped, startled. He put his hand to his chest and looked at him in horror. "But your parents...they were magic...weren't they? They had to have been. James Potter was a pure blood. Where are your other relatives? Why were you sent to live with  _muggles?!"_ Draco asked as if he'd been personally victimized by the Dursleys. 

"I don't know." Harry said with a shrug. He looked around the room. "Mr. Snape-" 

" _Professor_ Snape." Atlas interrupted him with an unsure smile. 

"Right, professor Snape." Harry nodded. "He said that I had other relatives, but the powers that be decided that I had to stay with my mother's sister, Petunia Dursley." 

"So  _that's_ where you've been all these years?" Atlas asked. He hummed and shook his head. "Merlin, the scandal that would cause... _stupendous_."  He grinned at Harry and rubbed his hands together eagerly. " _Oh_ whoever sent Harry Potter to live with muggles is  _finished."_

Harry looked at the older boy with wide eyes. He turned back to Draco who was concentrating hard. He seemed disturbed that Harry's family didn't like him much, that they didn't give him toys. Harry wondered how he'd react if he knew that that wasn't even the worst of how he was treated at the hands of his relatives. Wondered what he'd saw if he saw the burns on his arms, the scars on his back. All strategically placed so they wouldn't be seen by anyone who'd try and call the police or something. But Harry didn't feel like talking about his family anymore. 

"Let's keep showing him the house." Atlas said, guiding Harry and Draco out of the room and back into the hallway. There was another library, but they couldn't go in there. There were four guest rooms, two rooms dedicated to toys and books for Draco and Atlas, and three bathrooms. The next floor was for the master of the house, so they didn't go into any of the rooms, and they weren't even allowed onto the next floor. 

Draco and Atlas led Harry back to the main floor. "You haven't ever been flying, have you?" Draco asked suddenly. He looked at Harry with wide blue eyes and covered his mouth, as if he was mourning Harry's poor childhood. "Come on, dinner won't be for another thirty minutes, at least, we have to take you out to the pitch." He grabbed Harry and moved to drag him across the house again, but Atlas stepped in. 

"Neither of you are dressed to fly." He scolded Draco. "As it'll be his first time, you'll want to make sure there's nothing obstructing his movement. The last thing you want is for Harry Potter to die on your broom." He warned. 

Harry felt as if it was his name that would more concerning, than his actual death. Draco sighed in disappointed and apologized. "We'll show you Exploding Snap, then." Draco said crossing his arms over his chest. He brightened up. "That'll be fun." 

"Only because he doesn't know the rules, so you  _might_ win." Atlas laughed. Draco shot him a dirty look and the older boy just grinned.

There was no more pulling on Harry. They settled into the blue drawing room. Draco pulled a deck of cards out of a drawer and cleared off the coffee table, setting everything on an end table by the couch. The three boys sat around the table while Draco explained the rules to him quickly. It sounded like a complicated game of War, with the added bonus of smoke and explosions.

When a small creature came to summon them to dinner, Harry was winning, with a large smile on his face. He looked at it with wide eyes, then over to Draco, asking without asking, what it was. 

"That's a house elf." Draco said, like it was obvious. Atlas led them into the large dining Hall. Harry looked around in amazement, like he did with everything else. The fireplace was lit, making the entire room feel cozy. Harry sat in between Atlas and Draco, across from Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy. Harry made sure to straighten his back like Snape had taught him. Bowls of warm, rose smelling liquid appeared in front of them. Harry dipped his fingers inside, and made sure to dab his hands dry. Mrs. Malfoy was looking at him in appreciation. Harry laid his napkin in his lap. 

The appetizer was a salad with peaches and walnuts instead of dressing. Harry grabbed his salad fork and waiting until Mrs. Malfoy had started before he began eating. It was amazing. It had a bit of a hot burn after it went down. He made sure he conserved his water. Mr. Malfoy hadn't even touched his wine. 

"You have wonderful table manors, Mr. Potter." Mrs. Malfoy said with a smile, taking a small sip of her own wine. She searched his face.

"Ah, yes, thank you ma'am." Harry blushed with a slight smile. "You have professor Snape to thank for that, he taught me last night." 

"Goodness, you learned all this in a night?" She asked, placing her hand on her chest. She frowned. "Why didn't your guardians teach you this? They should have been more attentive." 

"It's hardly his fault mother." Draco said, with a sympathetic drawl to his voice. He looked at Harry and nodded at him with sad eyes. "He was raised by muggles." He whispered quietly. He looked back his parents who looked at Harry with surprise. "It's amazing what he  _does_ know."

Harry had to physically keep himself from slouching down in his seat and sliding under the table. Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy instantly began uttering their sympathy. "Is that why Professor Snape was taking you to the alley? I had assumed that, well  _someone_ with a close relation to you would have taken you in." Mr. Malfoy said, after taking another bite of his salad. "I admit, I'm surprised the minister allowed you to be placed in a muggle home." 

"My aunt and uncle told me they were my only living relatives, sir." Harry said, laying down his fork. He'd finished the salad. He made sure to turn the fork upside down. It was a polite way to say that you enjoyed what had been served. "Professor Snape said that wasn't quite true, but they are my  _closest_ relatives. My aunt was my mother's sister."  

"Ah yes." Mrs. Malfoy said absentmindedly. "Lilly Evans muggle family." She huffed and took another bite of her food. 

"You knew my mother ma'am?" Harry asked, perking up. "My aunt and uncle never talked about her, or my parents at all, actually." He looked at her pleadingly. Harry saw that she seemed genuinely sorrowful when she shook her head. She also laid down her fork. Harry nodded. "I understand, it's been years. Did she...go to Hogwarts?" 

"Yes, both of your parents did." She said, with a slight smile. "Your mother was a very bright young woman. You have her eyes, you know." She said. She looked Harry over. "But you look just like your father." She chuckled softly. 

"Indeed he does, my love." Mr. Malfoy said, mirroring his wife's smile. "Your hair is darker, and much tamer than his was. You have the same nose though, the same jaw, the same face shape." 

Harry felt something light in his chest. He looked down at his plate, his smile almost felt like it reached up to his eyes. "Thank you, both." He looked up at them, and saw them looked at him with a fair bit of alarm. He wasn't sure why that was. "You've both been so kind to me, and I'm a stranger. Thank you." He bowed his head slightly to both of them. He heard Atlas chuckle softly next to him. Mr. Malfoy tapped him on the leg with his foot. 

"Mr. Potter, you returned ancient family heirlooms to me." Mr. Malfoy said. "It is a... _honor...._ to have the hero of the wizarding world sitting at my table, eating dinner with me." 

Harry looked at him in confusion. Then he remembered the book Snape had allowed him to borrow. "Sir, I don't understand. Professor Snape gave me a book, it says that I destroyed some guy when I was a baby. But I don't think..." Harry paused. He didn't know what to say. He didn't know how to put into words the fact that his whole life had been blown wide open with three paragraphs from a book. "I didn't do  _anything."_ Harry insisted. 

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said. "You're the first and the only person in the history of wizard kind to survive the killing curse." He laced his fingers together and rested the bottom of his chin on the top of his hands. Harry was sure you weren't supposed to put your elbows on top of the table, so he didn't do the same. He sat with his back straight and his eyes looking directly into Mr. Malfoy's. "They say the Dark Lord came to kill you, that Halloween night, but for some reason, he could not. His power broke, and you got away with nothing but that scar on your head." Mr. Malfoy pointed to him. 

Mrs. Malfoy cleared her throat and gave her husband a pointed look. The man nodded and the five of them returned to their meal. But Harry wasn't feeling so hungry, even though the lobster he was being served was amazing. He felt that he'd rather have parents than a silly old scar. He ate his meal in silence, but no one was asking him any questions, maybe they could see how he was feeling, written all over his face. He was glad to see that there was cake for dessert. He'd only have to eat half of it.  

When that was finished, Mrs. Malfoy invited him to join her and Mr. Malfoy in the drawing room. Harry sat down next to Mrs. Malfoy, and Mr. Malfoy sat in the armchair next to the fire. Mrs. Malfoy poured him a cup of tea. He thanked her and drank his tea mechanically. 

"So, Harry..." Mr. Malfoy said, taking a sip of his drink. "Is there anything else you wished to ask?" He asked. 

"Yes, a lot." Harry said. He placed the cup down on the table, where they'd forgotten to put their cards away. "But I don't think you'll the answers to most of them." He cleared his throat. "But...could you tell me what these  _houses_ are, that everyone keeps asking me about?" 

Mr. Malfoy smiled. "Slytherin, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor." He said, with an almost nostalgic sigh. "Named for the founders of Hogwarts. I was a Slytherin when I was a school boy, as was Narcissa and Atlas. I expect Draco may be as well. Your parents were Gryffindors." 

"What are the houses for?" 

"Slytherin, the cunning and ambitious. Ravenclaw the wise and witty. Hufflepuff the just and loyal. Gryffindor, the chivalrous and brave. The houses are meant to group you with like minded people so you can grow, and depend on one another while you are trying to discover yourselves as young witches and wizards." 

"Oh." Harry nodded. "I wonder where I'll go." Harry asked himself quietly. He picked up his cup and took another drink of his tea. No sugar, one cream. He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "What was Hogwarts like?" Harry asked. 

"They were some of the most enjoyable days of my life." Mr. Malfoy said with a sigh. "But the time ends quickly. It truly did help me to become the person I am today, and in Slytherin, was where I found friends that I still am very close with, to this very day." 

Harry nodded along. His eyes felt heavy. He tried not to yawn, turning away from Mrs. Malfoy as he did so. 

"Oh dear." She said. She looked at the clock. Almost nine thirty. Harry knew he'd have to stay. Mrs. Malfoy led him up to a room next to Draco's when he was finished with his tea, and helped him settle in for the night. She turned off the light, closing the door behind her. Mr. Malfoy said he'd take him home after breakfast the next day. Harry lay wide awake in the bed, far softer than he'd ever slept on before. He felt...almost as if there was something calling out to him. He ignored it, turning on his side and closing his eyes. It had been a very long day. 

* * *

Harry returned to his home, grabbing to Mr. Malfoy's arm. He thanked the man and knocked on his door. No answer. He knocked again, still nothing. Mr. Malfoy frowned and looked down at Harry who was shifting from foot to foot, uncomfortably. Mr. Malfoy banged loudly on the door with his cane, muttering about muggles. The door flew open, a very red Vernon Dursley almost ripping it off its hinges. The man looked first to Mr. Malfoy, then to Harry. 

"I thought we'd have been rid of you." He snarled. 

"Disappointment is good for the soul." Harry said with an exhausted smile. "Keep you on your toes." 

Vernon looked ready to strike him, right there in front of the elegantly dressed man, but held himself together. "Mr. Potter, I'm afraid I must leave you here." He said, not sounding happy about it. He turned to Vernon. "Be sure that no harm befalls Mr. Potter." He said, tapping his cane against the ground. "If he is not on platform 9 and 3/4 by ten o'clock the morning of September the 1st, I will return to collect him." He glared at the muggle man, who stepped away. "And you will not want that, sir." He nodded once to Harry before he turned and disappeared with a loud crack. Vernon grabbed Harry by the arm and pulled him inside the home.  

 


	5. Platform 9 and 3/4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, this chapter was way longer than I intended. I used some of the original text to describe the train and the platform. I'll let you guys know if I use the original text again. Don't want it to wind up being mostly just JK's work, so I'll try and keep it to a minimum.  
> I still don't own Harry Potter. 
> 
> Good lord this is like, double to amount of words I normally write for a chapter. (Normally about 3500-4500, give or take) Holy hell, how did this happen. I was so tempted to just split this into two chapters. Sorry if you don't like long chapters.

It'd been awhile since he'd been at the Malfoy manor. Harry was in the kitchen very early on the morning  

On July 31st, Harry felt shock when a large, elegant looking black owl swept into the kitchen in the early morning, while Harry was trying to steal something from the fridge. It carried a small package in its talons. Harry looked around and grabbed the package, then took the owl to his cupboard under the stairs. He let the large bid rest on the shelf, then went back to the kitchen and grabbed it a bowl of water. He set it down for the bird, who lapped at it greedily. 

Harry looked at the envelope first. It was a note, written on it in elegant handwriting. Harry saw that the Malfoy family crest was on the back of the envelope.

_Potter,_  
__It was a joy to have you for dinner in our home. As we'll be starting out first years together, I was hoping we could begin it as friends. There are some witches and wizards that it would be unfortunate if you associated with. I can help you with that, and a great deal of other things. Well, I hope to hear from you soon. Don't let your filthy muggle relatives keeps you down.   
_Father said that today was your birthday. I hope you're having a great day._  
How has the rest of you summer been so far? I imagine not pleasant, considering your company. I kept thinking on what you told my cousin and I, about how you've never had toys. Well, I understand that we're growing older, almost too old to have them, but it just wouldn't be right for you to have owned none. So I hope that this gift makes living with muggles a little more bearable.  _  
___Draco Malfoy.     

Harry put the letter to the side and opened the package. There was a box and when he opened it, he came face to face with a brown stuffed bear. He pulled it out of the box and held it, with a soft gasp. There was a silver bow tie around its neck. Harry pulled it close to his chest, hugging it close. He felt a wetness in his eyes. He hid his face on the top of the bears soft head. His shoulders shook as he squeezed it, falling back on his cot, curled around his first ever birthday present.

Harry wiped his tears from his face, feeling a smile spreading so wide on his mouth that it almost felt like his face was going to split in half. He opened his school trunk and pulled out a piece of parchment and a pencil he had lying around in his cupboard. He stared at it, and looked up at the owl when it flapped its wings irritably. Harry considered the bird for a few seconds, smiling at the handsome owl. 

 __Malfoy ,  
__Words can't explain how grateful I am to have met you and your family. This is my first birthday gift, ever, and it's amazing. I'll keep it until I'm old and wrinkly. I'm very excited about going to school with you. I would love to be friends with you! I hope that we are in the same house together. Thank you so much for writing to me, I can't wait to see you on the platform.  
_My summer could be better, but it could be worse too. The muggles just seem to want to pretend that I don't exist. I have to admit it, I'm lonely. Maybe that's a weird thing to say, considering that they only ever used to yell at me. Your letter was a nice surprise._  
Sorry this letter is short, but I have to send it before the muggles wake up.   
Thank you again  
Harry Potter. 

Harry felt like his handwriting looked like chicken scratch next to Draco's. But he folded it up and went into the kitchen to find an envelope to put it in. He quickly wrote Draco's name on the front, before giving it to the bird, who took it and flew out the window that it had entered. Harry squeezed the bear against his chest and went back to his cupboard.  

* * *

Harry’s last month with the Dursleys wasn't pleasant. True, Uncle Vernon hadn't hit him once, at aunt Petunia's insisting that they were being spied on by 'the boy's type'. Dudley didn't seem to get the message, but he was too slow so he hardly could ever catch Harry. His aunt and uncle didn't even shout at him, or make him do any chores. Actually they never talked to him, if they could help it. But that also meant they weren't feeding him. So Harry had taken to stealing food in the early hours of the morning, or the very late hours of the night, when everyone was still asleep. 

On the last day of August he thought he’d better speak to his aunt and uncle about getting to King’s Cross station the next day, so he went down to the living room where they were watching a quiz show on television. He cleared his throat to let them know he was there. They didn't acknowledge him at first, so Harry cleared his throat again but no one looked at him. 

“Er—Uncle Vernon?” He asked hesitantly. 

Uncle Vernon grunted to show he was listening.

“Er—I need to be at King’s Cross tomorrow to—to go to Hogwarts.”

Uncle Vernon grunted again.

“Would it be all right if you gave me a lift?”

Grunt. Harry supposed that meant yes.

“Thank you.”

He was about to go back to his cupboard when Uncle Vernon actually spoke.

“Funny way to get to a wizards’ school, the train. Magic carpets all got punctures, have they?” Vernon asked. Harry didn’t say anything, bowing his head while Vernon and Petunia laughed. “Where is this school, anyway?”

“I don’t know,” said Harry, realizing this for the first time. He pulled the ticket that had been in his Hogwarts letter. “I just take the train from platform nine and three-quarters at eleven o’clock,” he read. "But...remember, Mr. Malfoy says I should be there by ten."  

His aunt and uncle stared.

“Platform what?”

“Nine and three-quarters. Didn't you hear Mr. Malfoy?” Harry asked. When he saw the way that the two shifted, he figured they must not have heard him. Vernon  _did_ look frightened of the well-dressed wizard. 

“Don’t talk rubbish,” said Uncle Vernon. “There is no platform nine and three-quarters.”

“Its on my ticket.” Harry said, holding it up, to show him. 

“Barking,” said Uncle Vernon, “howling mad, the lot of them. You’ll see. You just wait. All right, we’ll take you to King’s Cross. We’re going up to London tomorrow anyway, or I wouldn’t bother.”

“Why are you going to London?” Harry asked, trying to keep things friendly, already sensing that the mood was about to turn. He saw no need to go to Hogwarts with fresh bruises. 

“Taking Dudley to the Smeltings office,” growled Uncle Vernon. “Crazy woman said his paperwork wasn't filled out correctly.”

"Oh, well, good luck." Harry smiled hesitantly to his uncle before running back to his cupboard under the stairs. 

* * *

 

Harry woke at five o’clock the next morning and was too excited and nervous to go back to sleep. He got up and pulled on his jeans because he didn’t want to walk into the station in his wizard’s robes—he’d change on the train. He checked his Hogwarts list yet again to make sure he had everything he needed,  then paced the room, waiting for the Dursleys to get up. Two hours later, Harry’s huge, heavy trunk was loaded into the Dursleys’ car, Aunt Petunia had talked Dudley into sitting next to Harry, and they had set off. While they drove, his cousin was poking and pinching him. 

They reached King’s Cross at half past nine. Uncle Vernon dumped Harry’s trunk on a cart and wheeled it into the station for him. Harry thought this was strangely kind until Uncle Vernon stopped dead, facing the platforms with a nasty grin on his face. Harry ducked his head. 

“Well, there you are, boy. Platform nine—platform ten. Your platform is somewhere in the middle, but they don’t seem to have built it yet, do they?”

He was quite right, of course. There was a big plastic number nine over one platform and a big plastic number ten over the one next to it, and in the middle, nothing at all.

“Have a good term,” said Uncle Vernon with an even nastier smile. He left without another word. Harry turned and saw the Dursleys drive away. All three of them were laughing. Harry’s mouth went rather dry. What on earth was he going to do? He was starting to attract a lot of funny looks, because he was a young boy who was standing, lost, in a crowded platform. He was filled with dread when he realized he'd have to ask someone.

He stopped a passing guard, but didn’t dare mention platform nine and three-quarters. The guard had never heard of Hogwarts and when Harry couldn’t even tell him what part of the country it was in, he started to get annoyed, as though Harry was being stupid on purpose. Getting desperate, Harry asked for the train that left at eleven o’clock, but the guard said there wasn’t one. In the end the guard strode away, muttering about time wasters. Harry was now trying hard not to panic. According to the large clock over the arrivals board, he still had a fair amount of time but still no idea how to get on to the platform. He was stranded in the middle of a station with a trunk he could hardly lift, a pocket full of wizard money, and a bunch of spell books.

Harry paced around, wondering if there was something you had to do, like tapping the third brick on the left to get into Diagon Alley. He wondered if he should get out his wand and start tapping the ticket inspector’s stand between platforms nine and ten. 

At that moment a group of people passed just behind him and he caught a few words of what they were saying.

“—packed with Muggles, of course—”

Harry swung round. The speaker was a plump woman who was talking to four boys, all with flaming red hair. Each of them was pushing a trunk like Harry’s in front of him—and they had an owl.

Heart hammering, Harry pushed his cart after them. They stopped and so did he, just near enough to hear what they were saying.

“Now, what’s the platform number?” said the boys’ mother.

“Nine and three-quarters!” piped a small girl, also red-headed, who was holding her hand, “Mom, can’t I go…”

“You’re not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first.”

What looked like the oldest boy marched toward platforms nine and ten. Harry watched, careful not to blink so he wouldn't miss it—but just as the boy reached the dividing barrier between the two platforms, a large crowd of tourists came swarming in front of him and by the time the last backpack had cleared away, the boy had vanished. 

“Fred, you next,” the plump woman said.

“I’m not Fred, I’m George,” said the boy. “Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can’t you tell I’m George?”

“Sorry, George, dear.”

“Only joking, I am Fred,” said the boy, and off he went. His twin called after him to hurry up, and he must have done so, because a second later, he had gone—but how had he done it?

Now the third brother was walking briskly toward the barrier—he was almost there—and then, quite suddenly, he wasn’t anywhere. Harry was glad to finally see some kind of answer. That was magic if he'd ever seen it. Harry waited until the adults had passed through the magic barrier before he moved quickly, almost running at the wall. He gasped and closed his eyes before he hit it. But he didn't hit it. He passed through it and kept going. He only stopped when his cart accidentally collided with someone else's. 

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o’clock. Harry looked behind him and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. He had done it.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. Harry couldn't see the Malfoy's through the crowd, not that he was expecting them to wait for him or anything, so he went to look for a compartment. 

The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats. Harry pushed his cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. He passed a round-faced boy who was saying, “Gran, I’ve lost my toad again.”

“Oh, Neville,” he heard the old woman sigh.

A boy with dreadlocks was surrounded by a small crowd.

“Give us a look, Lee, go on.” The boy lifted the lid of a box in his arms, and the people around him shrieked and yelled as something inside poked out a long, hairy leg.

Harry pressed on through the crowd until he found an empty compartment near the end of the train. He tried to shove and heave his trunk toward the train door. He tried to lift it up the steps but could hardly raise one end and twice he dropped it painfully on his foot.

“Want a hand?” It was one of the red-haired twins he’d followed through the barrier.

“Yes, please,” Harry panted.

“Oy, Fred! C’mere and help!”

With the twins’ help, Harry’s trunk was at last tucked away in a corner of the compartment.

“Thanks,” said Harry, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s that?” said one of the twins suddenly, pointing at Harry’s lightning scar.

“Blimey,” said the other twin. “Are you—?”

“He is,” said the first twin. “Aren’t you?” he added to Harry.

“What?” said Harry.

“Harry Potter,” chorused the twins.

“Oh, him,” said Harry. “I mean, yes, I am.” He blushed and looked away. 

The two boys gawked at him, and to his relief, a voice came floating in through the train’s open door. “Fred? George? Are you there?”

“Coming, Mum.” With a last look at Harry, the twins hopped off the train.

Harry sat down next to the window where, half hidden, he could watch the red-haired family on the platform and hear what they were saying. Their mother had just taken out her handkerchief. Harry closed the window and sat down. He wished he'd have enough sense to pull out a book before the twins had put it in the overhead compartment. He sighed, and watched through the corner of his eye while the twins were pointing to where I was sat. 

The door opened again and Harry's green eyes widened when he met Draco's light blues. He smiled when he saw the familiar face. The blond boy leaned against the door of the compartment and grinned. "We were beginning to think we'd have to pay your relatives a visit." He said with a smirk. He made his way into the compartment, followed behind by his father who was holding his trunk. 

"Hello, Mr. Potter." Mr. Malfoy said. He cast a quick spell on the trunk and it floated up, resting next to Harry's. "Happy to see that you've made it onto the train." 

"Thank you sir." Harry smiled. "It was a close call though, I couldn't find it for a good twenty minutes." 

Mr. Malfoy smiled at him and chuckled. He stepped away and Mrs. Malfoy came in to give her son hugs and kisses. Draco tried to push her away, but the beautiful woman was having none of it. Atlas was standing on the platform, his trunk floating at his side. When Mrs. Malfoy turned around, she gave her nephew the same treatment, but he was much less embarrassed by it. Atlas pushed his floating trunk up and set it on the over head, before flopping down in the seat closest to the door. Draco sat across from Harry, the Malfoy's bid them farewell, and closed the compartment. 

Harry looked out the window towards the large clock in the middle of the platform. They still had forty-five minutes until the train would leave, but the Malfoys were already gone. Atlas waited until he couldn't see them anymore before he stood. "Sorry kiddos, but I've got a lovely fourth year who agreed to..." He smirked at them, and both looked up at him in confusion. "Well, I'll see you two later." He gave them a two finger salute before he left them. 

"So, did you like your birthday present?" Draco asked casually.

Harry nodded. "I loved it. I brought him with me..."

"Excellent." Draco nodded. "I also brought the stuffed owl my mother gave me. So, no one would dare to bother you about it." Draco pulled a book out of his robes. "I don't assume you've ever read the Tales of Beedle the Bard, have you?" Draco asked, turning a page. When Harry shook his head, Draco sighed and muttered under his breath. "Well, remind me when we get to school. They're important stories, and if you want to fit in, you'll want to know them." 

Harry was startled when the train began to move. He looked out the window, and watched as the red haired girl ran along the platform, waving at someone. Harry felt a pang in his chest. He wished he had someone to wave goodbye too. He turned back and looked at Draco who was concentrating on his book. He didn't want to interrupt the boy. So he looked back out the window and watched in amazement as the countryside passed him by. 

While living with the Dursleys, Harry didn't get the chance to see much of anything. He went to school and he went home. He'd never visited a friend's house-not before Draco and his family, anyways- he'd never been taken on a family trip, he'd never so much as been allowed to visit the park that was three blocks away from the home. The furthest he'd explored, before Snape came to get him, was doing the shopping with aunt Petunia so he could carry everything. He'd never seen the rolling hills of the country before. He decided that he liked it. 

The compartment door slid open and a tall weedy boy with brown hair and dark eyes stood at the entrance. He let out a sigh of relief and carried his things inside. "Malfoy." He greeted, throwing his things up with the other two boys' stuff. He sat next to Draco and smiled thinly. The boy looked at Harry, and it only took him a few seconds before he noticed Harry's scar. He held out his hand. "Theodore Nott." He said. Harry took his hand and introduced himself quietly. Nott sniffed and looked him over with a raised eyebrow. "I thought Malfoy was just blowing smoke when he said you stayed the night at his house this summer." He smirked. "Any truth to that?" 

"Yes, actually." Harry pushed his hair out of his eyes. "I had dinner there. It was really nice." 

Nott hummed and looked at Malfoy who seemed proud of himself. The two boys looked at each other and seemed to be having a conversation silently. Harry shifted uncomfortably. "Potter and I are friends." Malfoy said. They looked over to Harry who grinned brightly and nodded quickly. Malfoy seemed proud of himself, like he was lording it over Nott, who huffed and turned away. Harry was very confused. Malfoy seemed more keen to have meaningless conversations with him when Nott entered. Harry tried multiple times, mostly unsuccessfully.

"He enjoys his books more than he likes people." Malfoy explained. He grinned at Nott who peeked up from the large novel he was engrossed in. "He's not trying to be rude, I promise." 

Nott looked at Malfoy, wide eyed. He turned to Harry and shook his head. "No, I'm really not." He said. He closed the book on his fingers. "I'm just reading a potions theory. It's really interesting." 

Malfoy scoffed. "No one wants to hear  _that."_ He rolled his eyes. "How boring." 

"No, I'd like to hear it." Harry said with a smile. "I don't really know much about anything about the wizarding world. I'll take any knowledge I can get." 

Nott looked at Malfoy who shrugged. "Malfoy said that you were raised by... _muggles."_ He whispered, and looked back and forth, like it was shameful. When Harry nodded, he covered his mouth. "Oh, I'm so sorry." He said, covering his chest. "What was that like?" He asked. 

Harry looked down at his hands that were in his lap. He shrugged. "Awful." He said with a strained smile. "Let's not talk about that though. I don't want to think about them, when it's supposed to be an exciting day." Harry looked back up. "Now, what about your potions theory?" Harry asked. 

"I understand." Nott opened his book and turned it around and showed Harry a picture of some kind of strange stone. "So, the Philosopher's stone, I'm sure you've heard of that, right?" He asked, and Harry nodded. He must have heard about it from some kind of fairy tale at one point. " _Well,_ the stone, it's got a lot of power. This person wrote a theory that the stone could be used to cure most ailments. Like a beozar...that's...well it's in a goats stomach. It's the natural antidote for most poisons. Well, this theory also talks about that the creation of the stone itself might have been what caused the plague in the mid 1300's in Europe." He turned back a page that was map that showed the spread of the Black Plague. "So this book also says, that's it's possible that when the stone was made, it was made with the health and energy of muggles to give it all its powers." 

Harry blinked and nodded. "Do you believe that?"

"Not a word." Nott smiled. "But, it's interesting anyways." He shrugged. He and Harry shared a quick laugh. Draco looked between them with a roll of his eyes. "Thank you for listening to me anyways." 

"No, it really was interesting. But it does seem a little far fetched. I mean, the stone shows up in many pieces of muggle works, but it never mentions anything like that happening. The stone was always a help." 

" _Exactly!"_ Nott snapped his fingers, and pointed to the book. "The creator of the stone, he was a muggle lover. He even wrote in his own journals that he made the stone to help the muggles who were dying at the time." He looked at the front cover and scoffed. "However, the man who wrote this, is just convinced that Flamel was actually using the muggles of Europe to power his work." 

Harry opened his mouth to reply but the door slid open again. The three turned. A tall boy with black hair and dark skin stood there. He was dressed in crisp suite. Malfoy and Nott both sighed. Harry smiled at the newcomer who scoffed at him and turned away with a roll of his eyes. "Who is that?" He asked, gesturing towards Harry who suddenly felt much smaller. 

"This is Harry Potter." Malfoy introduced him, gesturing to him, and giving Harry and encouraging smile. 

The newcomer scoffed and laughed rudely. He looked over at Harry. "Blaise Zabini." He said coldly. He didn't offer Harry his hand like the other boy had. " _I_ want to sit next to the window." He crossed his arms over his chest and raised an eyebrow. 

"Well, you should have gotten here sooner." Harry said pleasantly. "Then you could have had it." 

Zabini scoffed and sat next to Harry, pressing himself as far away from Harry as he could. He put his trunk in between them. "Wouldn't want to accidentally touch a half-blood." He smirked at Harry. "My hands might get dirty." 

Draco glared at Zabini. "Well he's not any ordinary half-blood, he's the boy-who-lived." 

"Yes, the boy-who-lived, with his dead blood traitor father and his dead  _mudblood_  mother." 

" _Woah!" _ Nott said, sounding offended. "Maybe not the best way to start off the year, Zabini." He said, holding up his hands. 

Harry sat there feeling insulted and dejected. He didn't know what any of those words meant, but he could tell they were bad, very bad. He looked over to Draco who looked like he was having an internalized war in his mind. He shot Zabini a dirty look and looked away when he caught Harry's eyes. 

"Well, at least Potter knows who his father is." The blond muttered quietly. Zabini snapped his eyes over to him, glaring dangerously. "You heard me. For all we know, you could be the spawn of that muggle your mother shacked up with...about eleven years ago. Better a half-blood whose mother had  _some_ magic in her, than a half-blood bastard of a muggle." He scoffed. 

" _Watch yourself, Malfoy!" _Zabini snarled angrily. 

"You started it." Nott muttered under his breath. "Switch seats with me, if you can't be civil." 

After a bit of scuffling the two switched, and Nott smiled at Harry who smile back. Harry sent an appreciative smile towards Malfoy, who nodded back. Harry didn't really like that Malfoy had been so aggressive to Zabini, but he was giddy towards the fact that Malfoy felt the need to stick up for him. He sat up straighter. 

Around half past twelve there was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, “Anything off the cart, dears?”

Harry, who hadn’t had any breakfast, leapt to his feet, Harry went out into the corridor with Nott and Malfoy. He had never had any money for candy with the Dursleys, and now that he had pockets rattling with gold and silver he was ready to buy as many Mars Bars as he could carry—but the woman didn’t have Mars Bars. What she did have were Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans, Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things Harry had never seen in his life. Not wanting to miss anything, he got some of everything and paid the woman eleven silver Sickles and seven bronze Knuts.

Draco stared as Harry brought it all back in to the compartment and tipped it onto an empty seat.

“Hungry, are you?”

“Starving,” said Harry, taking a large bite out of a pumpkin pasty. He sighed happily, as the new flavors exploded in his mouth. 

"Looks like Crabbe and Goyal will have bit of competition this year." Zabini smirked.  

"Looks like no one asked you." Harry smirked back, taking a bite from his cake. Malfoy and Nott snickered and Zabini tutted and turned away. 

“What are these?” Harry asked Malfoy, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs. “They’re not really frogs, are they?” He was starting to feel that nothing would surprise him.

“No,” said Nott. “But see what the card is. I’m missing Agrippa.”

“What?”

“Oh, of course, you wouldn’t know—Chocolate Frogs have cards inside them, you know, to collect—famous witches and wizards. I’ve got about five hundred, but I haven’t got Agrippa or Ptolemy.”

Harry unwrapped his Chocolate Frog and picked up the card. It showed a man’s face. He wore half-moon glasses, had a long, crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, beard, and mustache. Underneath the picture was the name Albus Dumbledore.

Harry turned over his card and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

—————

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon’s blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card back over and saw, to his astonishment, that Dumbledore’s face had disappeared.

“He’s gone!”

“Well, you can’t expect him to hang around all day,” said Nott. “He’ll be back. No, I’ve got Morgana again and I’ve got about six of her… do you want it? You can start collecting.”

Harry took it with a smile. 

Nott’s eyes strayed to the pile of Chocolate Frogs waiting to be unwrapped.

“Help yourself,” said Harry. “But in, you know, the Muggle world, people just stay put in photos.”

“Do they? What, they don’t move at all?” Nott asked, stunned. “Weird!”

Harry stared as Dumbledore sidled back into the picture on his card and gave him a small smile. The other boys were more interested in eating the frogs than looking at the Famous Witches and Wizards cards, but Harry couldn’t keep his eyes off them. Soon he had not only Dumbledore and Morgana, but Hengist of Woodcraft, Alberic Grunnion, Circe, Paracelsus, and Merlin. He finally tore his eyes away from the druidess Cliodna, who was scratching her nose, to open a bag of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.

“You want to be careful with those,” Malfoy warned Harry. “When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor—you know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe.”

Malfoy picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner. He swallowed it with a sour look on his face. “See? Sprouts.”

They had a good time eating the Every Flavor Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one no one would touch, which turned out to be pepper.

The countryside now flying past the window was becoming wilder. The neat fields had gone. Now there were woods, twisting rivers, and dark green hills.

There was a knock on the door of their compartment and the round-faced boy Harry had passed on platform nine and three-quarters came in. He looked tearful.

“Sorry,” he said, “but have you seen a toad at all?” He asked, wiping his eye. 

When they shook their heads, he wailed, “I’ve lost him! He keeps getting away from me!”

“He’ll turn up,” said Harry, wanting to reassure him. 

“Yes,” said the boy miserably. “Well, if you see him…”

"I'll come find you." Harry nodded. The boy thanked him and left, his shoulders drooping. 

Malfoy and Zabini were chuckling. "Can you imagine, bringing a toad?" Malfoy asked with a snicker. "I think he should be thankful, if  _I_ had a toad, I'd be loosing it as fast as I could." 

Harry laughed nervously while the others laughed loudly, boisterous. He looked up at his trunk and wished he could grab one of his books. The compartment door slid open and a girl with large teeth and bushy hair stepped in along with the toadless boy. The girl was already wearing her new Hogwarts robes.

“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said. She had a bossy sort of voice. She looked the four of them over. 

"No." Malfoy said, folding his arms over his chest. 

"Well if you see one, you should let us know, Neville's very distraught. I think it's strange that wizards give their children common muggle pets. Nobody in my family’s magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it’s the very best school of witchcraft there is, I’ve heard—I’ve learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough—I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?” She said all this very fast. 

Harry looked at her with wide eyes. He saw the other three boys were giving her nasty looks. Hermione must not have noticed it because she sat down right between Harry and Nott. Harry smiled at her, not sure why the others were being so cold. "I'm Harry Potter, nice to meet you." 

“Are you really?” said Hermione. “I know all about you, of course—I got a few extra books for background reading, and you’re in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century.”

“Am I?” said Harry, feeling dazed. 

“Goodness, didn’t you know, I’d have found out everything I could if it was me,” said Hermione. “Do either of you know what House you’ll be in? I’ve been asking around, and I hope I’m in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn’t be too bad… Anyway, we’d better go and look for Neville’s toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we’ll be there soon.”

And she left, taking the toadless boy with her.

"Whatever house she's in, I hope I'm  _not."_ Nott said, turning back to his book. Harry wasn't sure how he felt. He nodded along with the others though, so he could fit in. Harry peered out of the window. It was getting dark. He could see mountains and forests under a deep purple sky. The train did seem  to be slowing down.

He and the others took off their jackets and pulled on their long black robes. A voice echoed through the train: “We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes’ time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately." 

Harry’s stomach lurched with nerves and Nott, he saw, looked pale under his freckles. Draco and Zabini were smirking, cool as cucumbers. They crammed their pockets with the last of the sweets and joined the crowd thronging the corridor.

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform. Harry shivered in the cold night air. Then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and Harry heard a deep voice: “Firs’ years! Firs’ years over here!”

A very large man's big hairy face beamed over the sea of heads.

“C’mon, follow me—any more firs’ years? Mind yer step, now! Firs’ years follow me!”

Slipping and stumbling, they followed the man down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville, the boy who kept losing his toad, sniffed once or twice.

“Yeh’ll get yer firs’ sight o’ Hogwarts in a sec,” he called over his shoulder, “jus’ round this bend here.”

There was a loud “Oooooh!”

The narrow path had opened suddenly on to the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

“No more’n four to a boat!” The man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry and Draco were followed into their boat by Neville and Hermione.

“Everyone in?” shouted the man, who had a boat to himself. “Right then—FORWARD!”

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

“Heads down!” he yelled as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out on to rocks and pebbles.

“Oy, you there! Is this your toad?” said the man, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

“Trevor!” cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after the man’s lamp, coming out at last on to smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door.

“Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?”

The man raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door. Harry turned and grinned at Malfoy, who was grinning back.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment, leave kudos. Let me know if you like it. If there's something about this you feel could be better, just let me know.


	6. The Sorting Hat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter has a few excerpts from chapter 7

The wooden doors slowly opened and standing before them was a witch with a stern set to her eyes and was dressed in emerald green robes. Harry instantly knew that you'd have to be on a new level of idiot to cross her. "Thank you Hagrid." She said, nodding to the tall Harry man. "I can take them from here." 

The man nodded and he waved goodbye to the students. The witch turned to them, and let the stern look fade slightly. She smiled to them, and ushered them into the great hall.  The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Dursleys' house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right -the rest of the school must already be here -- but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours." She peered at them with a raised eyebrow. "The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting." Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and on the red haired boy's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair, but like all other times he tried that, it really was no use. 

McGonagall left them with a promise to return when they were ready for the new students. 

Draco turned him around and looked him over and nodded. "Alright Potter, you don't look bad." He said. He brushed off a stray hair from his shoulder. He stood in front of Harry expectantly. 

"Well, you look good too." Harry said with a smile. Draco looked exactly like the rich boy Harry knew he was. "How do you think they're going to sort us?" Harry asked him. Draco smiled at him knowingly. "Well?" 

"I'm not telling." He said in a sing-song voice. Harry suspected that he  _didn't_ actually know. Harry let Draco believe he'd been fooled. Nott and Zabini joined them, pushing through the crowd. Behind them trailed two boys very large boys who looked very mean. Meaner than Zabini, meaner than how Draco looked when Hermione had burst into their compartment. He was introduced to them quickly. Their names were Crabbe and Goyle, they grunted in place on actual greetings. 

"So it's true, what they were saying on the train." The red haired boy and two others walked over to the group of boys flanked by two others. "Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts." He stopped in front of them, and looked at Draco, Nott, and Zabini. "You've chosen to keep some  _interesting_ company. The Boy-Who-Lived shouldn't be hanging out with the children of Death Eaters." 

Draco rolled his neck and chuckled. "No need to tell me who you are. Red hair, hand me down robes, and a stupid complexion. You must be a Weasley." He cross his arms over his chest, a smirk stretching across his pale face. He turned to Harry who was looking between them. "These were the kind of wrong sort I warned you about in my letter."

Harry looked at the red haired boy and took a step forward. "Malfoy is the first friend I've ever had. He and his family have been good to me." He narrowed his eyes. "Don't you _dare_ insult him." The red head huffed and pushed Harry back. He snarled and stomped away with his two companions.

"You'll regret this one day, Potter." He called over his shoulder.  

Harry watched them go, feeling something tight in his shoulders. "Maybe, I shouldn't have said that." He looked over to Draco who was snickering with Nott. 

"No, it was hilarious, you sassy little devil." Nott smirked. He slung his arms around Draco and Harry's shoulders. Draco tried to pull away, but Nott wouldn't release them. "What's life without a little  _friendly_ rivalry." 

"That wasn't very friendly." Harry muttered. He grabbed Nott's hand and removed his arm. The other boy pouted slightly, but brightened back up. Harry looked over to Zabini who was smirking at him. He looked at Harry and put a hand on his hip. "What?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. 

"It's just funny." Zabini said. "You're not at all what I was expecting." 

"And what were you expecting?" 

Zabini said nothing, maybe he would have if the strict professor hadn't returned. "We are ready for you, line up." She ordered. The group of eleven year olds formed a somewhat orderly line, three across, mostly trying to squeeze through the door, with their shoulders pressed together. Harry wasn't alone with his year mates, marveling at the beauty of the great hall. Thousands of candles were floating in the air, giving the hall a nice, homely feeling to it. The ceiling was showing the starry night sky that they had seen before they'd entered into the castle.   

"It's enchanted to show what the sky outside looks like." Said the bushy haired girl from the train, several feet ahead of him to a girl with mousy brown hair. "I read it in  _Hogwarts: A History."_

" _I read it in Hogwarts: A History."_ Draco mocked her under his breath, rolling his eyes so far and so hard that Harry was worried they might pop out of his head. "Merlin, what a know-it-all. I bet she's never had a friend." 

Harry looked at the bushy haired girl. He chuckled along with the rest of their group as they lined up in front of the staff table. Harry wondered if what Draco said was true. Harry had never had friends before he'd met Draco, so he understood why she would be so desperate to make them. Maybe she thought that flaunting her talents was going to win people over. She was-unfortunately-wrong. He looked over to Draco, who was still mocking the girl with Zabini. Harry frowned deeply and looked back over to her. She must have heard Draco, because she was glaring at them. She looked over at Harry, who smiled to her. She huffed, and turned away, crossing her arms over her chest.  Then something happened that made him jump about a foot in the air -- several people behind him screamed.

"What the --?!" Someone shouted. 

He gasped. So did the people around him. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance --"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost -- I say, what are you all doing here?"  
A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

Nobody answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?" A few people nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony's about to start." Professor McGonagall said. 

Harry quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool she put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. Aunt Petunia wouldn't have let it in the house. She would have beaten whoever had brought it in, might have had a real heart attack if it touched anything in the house.  

Maybe they had to try and get a rabbit out of it, Harry thought wildly, that seemed the sort of thing -- noticing that everyone in the hall was now staring at the hat, he stared at it, too. For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth -- and the hat began to sing:

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,  
I'll eat myself if you can find  
A smarter hat than me.  
You can keep your bowlers black,  
Your top hats sleek and tall,  
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat  
And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head  
The Sorting Hat can't see,  
So try me on and I will tell you  
Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,  
Where dwell the brave at heart,  
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,  
Where they are just and loyal,  
Those patient Hufflepuffis are true And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,  
if you've a ready mind,  
Where those of wit and learning,  
Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin  
You'll make your real friends,  
Those cunning folk use any means  
To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!  
And don't get in a flap!  
You're in safe hands (though I have none)  
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Draco hissed to himself angrily. "I'm going to  _kill_ Atlas. He said we had to fight a troll." 

Harry. smiled weakly. Yes, trying on the hat was a lot better than having to do a spell, but he did wish they could have tried it on without everyone watching. The hat seemed to be asking rather a lot; Harry didn't feel brave or quick-witted or any of it at the moment. If only the hat had mentioned a house for people who felt a bit queasy, that would have been the one for him.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-faced girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell right down over her eyes, and sat down. A moments pause --  
"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit down at the Hufflepuff table. Harry saw the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at her.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit next to Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"  
The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

" Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far left exploded with cheers; Harry could see the red headed twin brothers catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin. Perhaps it was Harry's imagination, but they seemed to be the most reserved of the lot. They clapped politely for they new comer, but there were no shrieks and wild nonsense from the other tables. 

He was starting to feel definitely sick now. He remembered being picked for teams during gym at his old school. He had always been last to be chosen, not because he was no good, but because no one wanted Dudley to think they liked him.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Sometimes, Harry noticed, the hat shouted out the house at once, but at others it took a little while to decide. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry in the line, sat on the stool for almost a whole minute before the hat declared him a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!" Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Draco sighed in relif. ("Not that she would have been in Slytherin anyways, could you _imagine_?") 

A horrible thought struck Harry, as horrible thoughts always do when you're very nervous. What if he wasn't chosen at all? What if he just sat there with the hat over his eyes for ages, until Professor McGonagall jerked it off his head and said there had obviously been a mistake and he'd better get back on the train? He'd lose his friend in Draco, and he'd probably spend the rest of his life the cupboard under the stairs. 

When Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept losing his toad, was called, he fell over on his way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted, "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

Malfoy swaggered forward when his name was called and got his wish at once: the hat had barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!" Harry clapped for Malfoy, and smiled when the blond caught his eye and nodded subtly.  Malfoy went to join his friends Crabbe and Goyle, looking pleased with himself.

There weren't many people left now. "Moon" "Nott" "Parkinson" (all Slytherins) then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" (Gryffindor) and "Patil" (Ravenclaw) then "Perks, Sally-Anne" and then, at last -- "Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall as he sat down.

"Potter, did she say?"

" _The_ Harry Potter?"

The last thing Harry saw before the hat dropped over his eyes was the hall full of people craning to get a good look at him. Next second he was looking at the black inside of the hat. He waited.

 _"Hmm,"_ said a small voice in his ear. _"Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see. Not a bad mind either. There's talent, A my goodness, yes -- and a nice thirst to prove yourself, now that's interesting.... So where shall I put you?"_

Harry gripped the edges of the stool and thought, _'Please, put me with my friend, I don't want to lose my friend. He said that Slytherin is the best. I want to be the best!'_

 _"In Slytherin, eh?"_ said the small voice. " _Yes, yes I can see it now._   _You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that, I'm sure you'll fit in nicely._ SLYTHERIN!" The hat shouted. 

Harry heard the hat shout the last word to the whole hall. He took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Slytherin table. He felt his ears grow hot, when he noticed that not a single person was clapping for him. That was until as one the Slytherin house stood and began to clap enthusiastically. "We got Potter! We got Potter." He heard over and over again. When he reached the table, Draco grabbed him by the arm and helped him settle into a seat. Several older students were reaching over to shake his hand. ("The name's Bowl, Potter, nice to meet you" "Good Merlin, that was a shock, good to have you Potter, good to have you.") Harry grinned at them all and shook hands, knowing he'd never remember that many names at once. 

The sorting continued and Zabini was sorted into Slytherin as well. Harry clapped along with the rest of his house. He couldn't help but notice that Zabini was a little sour he didn't get such a warm welcome.  

McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away. Harry looked down at his empty gold plate. He had only just realized how hungry he was. The pumpkin pasties seemed ages ago.

Albus Dumbledore had gotten to his feet. He was beaming at the students, his arms opened wide, as if nothing could have pleased him more than to see them all there.  
"Welcome," he said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! "Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everybody clapped and cheered. Harry didn't know whether to laugh or not.

"Is he -- a bit mad?" he asked Draco uncertainly.

Draco snorted and rolled his eyes again. "Mad? You've got that right. How did they ever allow a man like that to teach is beyond me. Father says this place has gone to the dogs."

Harry hummed and looked up at the staff table. He saw that Dumbledore was chatting with a plump witch. He seemed perfectly nice. Harry looked at the rest of the staff and saw that Snape was sitting with a man in a turban. Harry smiled and waved uncertainly. Snape raised an eyebrow, slightly glaring. He nodded once, and Harry figured that was good enough. Snape returned to speaking to the other teacher. 

"Oi, Potter, pass the mashed potatoes." Someone further to his left said.  

Harry looked down at the table and his mouth fell open. The dishes in front of him were now piled with food. He had never seen so many things he liked to eat on one table: roast beef, roast chicken, pork chops and lamb chops, sausages, bacon and steak, boiled potatoes, roast potatoes, fries, Yorkshire pudding, peas, carrots, gravy, ketchup, and, for some strange reason, peppermint humbugs. His name was called again, so he grabbed the bowl of mashed potatoes and handed them to a boy who looked to be about thirteen. He was sitting with Atlas who grinned at Harry brightly. Harry smiled back. He looked back at the food and he could feel his mouth  _watering._

The Dursleys had never been good at feeding Harry, so he'd never been allowed to eat as much as he liked. Mostly scraps and leftovers, not that there were many, considering Dudley had always taken anything that Harry really wanted, even if It made him sick. Harry piled his plate with a bit of everything except the peppermints and began to eat. It was all delicious.

Draco was looking at him out of the corner of his blue eyes. His posture was utter perfection, like it had been at dinner. Harry shot him and apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, I just haven't...well the muggles you see they-" 

Draco held up at hand and Harry's mouth clicked shut. "No need to explain. Just don't eat too fast." He warned. "You might get sick." 

Harry nodded and went back to his food, taking care to eat as slowly as he could bear too. He didn't have much time to talk to Draco while they were eating, but he did make a big show of nodding along to whatever he was saying. Eventually dinner disappeared, and dessert took its place. Harry helped himself to a small biscuit. He turned when their year mates began talking about their families. 

"My mother is a head designer in one of the top agencies in France. We have to spend every summer there so she can work. Daddy works is a world-famous Astronomer, but I'm sure you all already knew that." A girl named Daphne Greengrass said, sweeping her blonde hair behind her ear. Pansy Parkinson's father was the head of the department of mysteries. She winked at them when she said they weren't supposed to know that. Tracey Davis was half-blood, which made Zabini cringe. She hadn't heard from her mother in years, but her dad was an Auror. Millicent Bulstrode said her mom didn't work but her dad worked with the banks. Zabini snottily declared that his mother was 'too rich to work' and said he was offended that his year mates 'thought he was a peasant.' Draco's father had no real job title, but liked to evolve himself in politics, his mother was a retired healer. Nott's father was retired and his mother was dead. Crabbe nor Goyal answered. Allura Moon's mother was a dragon handler. She didn't know who her father was. 

Everyone in their year turned to Harry, who was eating a cookie. "My parents are both dead." He told them icily. They looked between themselves, Harry thought they they must have known. 

"We mean..." Davis said, smoothing back her hair. "The people you live with now, what do they do?" 

"Oh." Harry took another bite and swallowed. "My aunt does nothing, my uncle works building drills or something." He paused. "I...think." 

Draco put a hand on his arm. "He's living with his mother's  _muggle_ family." He whispered. 

There were instantly gasps of disbelief from the table and Harry wanted to sink into the floor. They were giving him sympathetic looks and words, the girls even reached over to pat him on the arm. He smiled and waved at them, assuring them that it wasn't a big deal. Thankfully the conversation turned away from family. Harry actually wasn't following what was being said. He was still focused on the food. 

He dropped his biscuit with a sudden burning pain came from his scar. Draco asked him what was wrong, but Harry waved him down, saying he was fine. The pain subsided and Harry he reached for the biscuit to pick it back up. But, the desserts too disappeared, taking the biscuit with it , and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahern -- just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."  
Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. "I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.  
And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."    

Harry looked to Draco in alarm. "He's not serious is he?" 

"He better  _not be."_ The blond boy said in irritation. "My father will be hearing about this." He snapped. The other first years sighed quietly.  

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Harry noticed that the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed. Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.  
"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!" And the school-though the Slytherin table wasn't quite as exuberant-bellowed:

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,  
Teach us something please,  
Whether we be old and bald  
Or young with scabby knees,  
Our heads could do with filling  
With some interesting stuff,  
For now they're bare and full of air,  
Dead flies and bits of fluff,  
So teach us things worth knowing,  
Bring back what we've forgot,  
just do your best, we'll do the rest,  
And learn until our brains all rot.

  
Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted their last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest. "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Slytherin first years were told to sit and wait for the other tables to empty out. The rest of their house was allowed to leave, and did so quickly. There were two prefects that stayed with them. A boy and a girl. The boy was tall with large shoulders and a strong chin. He had cold eyes, that only seemed to soften slightly when he looked at the first years. The girl was a bit thicker. She smiled at them all very kindly and helped Crabbe straighten out his tie. When the hall was mostly empty, they were told sharply by the boy to line up. They did so at once, and followed him down into the dungeons. The stood in front of a blank wall and the girl tapped her wand to it. "Lilacs." She said. The wall slide away and opened into the Slytherin common room. 

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and several Slytherins were silhouetted around it in carved chairs.

"Okay, first years, gather around the fire." The boy said. The first years all tried to rush to sit on the couch, but it wound up being occupied by Draco, Zabini, Nott, and Davis. Harry didn't rush. He sat on the floor near Malfoy and grabbed a pillow from the blond boy, grinning at the scowl on his face. "Excellent." He nodded, and four other students joined them. 

A tall thin boy with dark skin and dark eyes smiled at them. He introduced himself as the Slytherin seventh year prefect, Niles Hanley. Then a young woman with bright green eyes and tanned skin stepped up. She was also a seventh year prefect, her name was Jodey Akimbo. 

"Let me start by welcoming you all to Slytherin House, the _best_ house." Hanley said, clapping his hands together. "Now, I know you all must be exhausted, but I'd like to go over a few rules with you. If you forget, they're posted on the bulletin board. First thing, lights out by 8:30 sharp until you're in third year. That means bed time, yes, I know _booo."_  He smiled at Draco and Zabini when they groaned quietly. "But you need your sleep. You also need to be awake every morning by six-thirty and be down in the great hall for breakfast no later than eight, understand?" He raised an eyebrow and everyone nodded. "Good!" He clapped his hands. 

"Here in Slytherin house, we are family. We put up a united front, no matter what happens. I don't care if you hate every single person here you stand up for them. We don't allow each other to be hurt. When you're all older, you'll be looking after younger students as well, so take that to heart. It'll be hard sometimes, because the rest of the school already thinks they know us." He didn't seem disturbed by that. "So if anyone bothers you, don't be afraid to ask for help.

"Now, you'll notice how nice and tidy our common room is. Keep it that way." He said sharply. He looked over across the common room towards a few older students who suddenly realized that they were very exhausted and had to leave right then. He turned back to the first years. "This area belongs to everyone, not just you, so please be respectful. The house elves here are also not your personal servants. It is your responsibility to keep your dorms and bathrooms clean. You aren't allowed to bring food into your dorms. You will be subjected to six random inspections throughout the year.  _Do not_ think you can pull one over on us, or bribe us, because you cannot." He observed them. "Now, I know it can get a bit stuffy in here, but  _please_ don't open the windows...." He grinned at them and the other prefects sighed and shook their heads. None of the first years laughed. 

"Anyways...if you have issues with students outside our house, and you cannot solve it yourself go to a prefect. If the issue continues, go to professor Snape, and it will be handled. Do not start fights. But if someone else starts them, you better damn well finish them. If you see a fellow Slytherin needs help, help them as best you can." 

He hummed. "Oh! House meets are every Friday at nine after dinner. You aren't allowed to ever skip those. Every night between six and eight PM is study hall in the common room, so please take all games and conversations upstairs to your dorm rooms. No outsiders are allowed in the common room, no exceptions. First years are assigned a 'watcher' who is a student in fourth year. This person will be your study partner, friend, and confidant. They are all volunteers so please respect them or they can make your life....difficult. They will be your watcher until they have graduated. You'll find out who you're assigned too tomorrow after classes." 

He clapped again. "Now, let's get you sleepy kids into bed. Boys, first floor to my left, girls first floor to my right. Goodnight!" 

They hurried off into their dorms. Harry's trunk was already by a bed in a far corner of the room. Next to Zabini, across from Nott. Harry opened his trunk and pulled out a large shirt that went down to his knees which he intended to sleep in. There was a bathroom that was connected to their dorm. He didn't want anyone to see him changing. The bathroom was large, with three showers heads which were closed off. Six sinks and three toilets, which were also closed off. Harry quickly changed and returned to the dorm. The lights were off so he had to move carefully to get into his bed. 

He reached back into his trunk and pulled out the bear Draco had gotten him, before he slipped under the covers and closed the curtains around him. He looked up at the dark silk canopy above him and smiling happily. He cuddled the bear and closed his eyes. He was home. 

 


End file.
